decoupage for apology

while choosing oil paints over aquarelle
you would speak to me in terms of your personal abstraction
you were broken
sometimes incomplete

so what is the story about oil paints

now, Sir is it about the quality
or do you prefer burying yourself in its opacity
- for its ability to divert the ashes of wrong strokes
and
mistakes,
pathetic choice of chroma


or perhaps just choice itself?

You and I both know
watercolors are honest and
would fail horribly in the nature of camouflage
our shameful selves need

so for you,
my paint strokes were a lousy, second rate ballet
I had no passionate for the maths of flax seed to paint ratio
so for you,
that youth and sexuality were nothing bigger than



an outre installation

Each time time you justified this
failure
you had the power to shatter me into pointillism

Each time you let your words curl around a chisel
that got the better of you
unto me

You reconstruct me into decoupage for apology