I want to paint

the memories from reception, when I met people people I’d never seen before. The smile on Mrs Blackburn’s face, a soul that hides within a dull, grey graveyard, a determined donut trying to role in sprinkles as people constantly walk by and the normality of the world. 

I want to paint 

the time lapse of a sunflower growing, a sprinkle off a donut lost and lonely as a grain of sand, pastel coloured oil crayons like a horizon with colours glimmering, dusty footsteps as sandy as pyramid of Giza, bricks climbing up McDonald’s walls like curious ants scurrying for food and bees buzzing from flower to flower like pom poms rolling across a table.

I want to paint red rosy apples, taste bud tickling . I want to paint the smell of happiness and joy drifting across school rooftops. I want to paint the sound of a dog talking in the dusty sunset. I want to paint the soul of a loved person. I want to paint the impossibility of my Grandad saying, “what a wonderful day,“ once again. I want to paint the distance between the school bell and the sun setting.

I want to paint the end of the pandemic.