Paintbrush Paints a Thousand Lives
by April Ardis Anderson
I feel the paintbrush
Listlessly creeping across my fingers
Caressing and embracing each wrinkle
With soft anemone hairs,
Tentacles emitting a poison
Inflicting memories of each canvas
The tiny wand has graced.
Bristles continue gliding
Past the lifeline and into my palm
A wooly-beared slug
Depositing a trail of slime
And all too pleasing to the eye.
The mighty tool of expression
Obediently dips into multi-shaded emotion
To conclude a masterpiece
Of another soul.