I want to paint

a vicious volcano erupting, magma mischievously melting everything in sight, a melancholy melody playing on Miss Crow’s radio hiding millions of memories within, a delicious donut delivered with your pizza, an iridescent igloo leaning in the blanket of the Arctic and a murmuration of swallows gliding in the sapphire sky.

I want to paint

the vermillion heart of a rose as happy as a hyena giggling after catching it’s prey, my auntie combing my hair as gentle as an axolotl swimming in the navy blue ocean, a teacher marking tests as busy as a buzzing bumblebee rushing around your garden searching for pollen, the water in a tremendous tea kettle as hot as fire cracking and sizzling in the fireplace and a broken heart, as weak as an ancient spiderweb, staring at it’s past.

I want to paint the taste of stretchy pizza cheese enveloping the dough in the oven. I want to paint the smell of cut grass, spreading the news of spring. I want to paint the sound of owls hooting in the deep, dark fearful forest. I want to paint the memory of meeting my friends after a tiring day of school. I want to paint the impossibility of the air collapsing. I want to paint the distance between a lonely lion and it’s precious prey. 

I want to paint the ends of this poem.