There is a pregnant but comfortable silence between them
There is a vibrant spark in his gaze that could start a forest fire
They are the speck of color in the pile of ruins around them
They are the life in the painting on the wall.
Blind and deaf to criticism but strong on their feet and in their embrace
As the ground shakes below them, the tower of love they’ve built holds strong
The painting releases butterflies off its canvas and into my stomach
They are the concrete foundation in the painting on the wall.
There in the corner, I see a car key and cackle at my deluded self
Illusions let you in from the rain like a hall filled with paintings on the wall
In our minds exist living memories. Pictures of our life. They won’t ever fade away.
They come alive the more I stare at the picturesque painting on the wall.
The painting that hangs on my wall! ❤