On morning one when sunlight spoke   an unfamiliar place i woke   and my arms and limbs, all lines so faint   crudely sketched in paint      red, blood red, wall overhead   this work of art, this lover's bed   his pictures hung; the splattered marks   as the curator, she starts...      "oh him? he was sweet.   now he's layers underneath.   our ink is forever."   she lied through her teeth.      painted over   painted over   painted over      love it grew from a simple crush   as colors saturate the brush   blue for honor and gold for the truth   the artist's final touch   time, gray time, it warped shapes   The canvas frayed and the work replaced   painted over, now all i see is   an envious shade of green      and now she hears me,   from layers underneath,   from cracks in the paint;   the voice while she sleeps      painted over   painted over   painted over