For you, I broke the bones of frames that held my paintings.
I rasped the skin away to see the hidden canvas.
I tore apart its tightly interwoven sinews.
I milled the splinters and the scraps to make new pigment.
And then I copied from your eyes my shining image.
I drew anew my paints and brushes, frames and easel.
Before, I turned my colors turbid on the palette --
Now, every facet cuts my fingers with your presence.