interpretations of art

for her.

notice, if you will, the lack of clandestine certainty
and the hateful oil of tears:
you've given me ivory dice to throw with confidence into an origami sky.
though transient yet spiteful critics may critique and moan,
"he's too far gone in himself to love and be loved",
i will continue to court you as i see fit,
because between my regrettably brief self-awareness
and my undoubtedly cutting counterpoints,
i will choose neither, for neither is the fairer of the two;
instead i will draw chalk outlines of robots and dragons
and other interpretations of art,
but i will leave them filled only with the flesh-colored sidewalk
and allow you to pour your own colors into them,
just as you have done with the sketched chalk outline of my
heart.