You hang your sweater off a pinkened shoulder

You hang your detachment off a crooked sweetness

I wonder how you chaffed your shoulder

I wonder how you bent your sweetness

You bring empty beer glasses back to the bar

You bring full paint bottles up to the bronx

I wonder at your red hot conscientiousness

I wonder at your clean white approach

So I want

to know if you were born at dawn

to see you swirl red with white

You gauge my color, canvas fill with novel base

You sip your beer, glass refill with empty space

I wonder at the space between two strokes

I wonder at the space within your curls

So I naturally want

to narrow space with paint

to fill each curl with fingers

So naturally

I wonder