How to say how I long for you

Like an obsession, black, oozing,

Gripping my mind with inky talons

I’ll handle it. With my hands I’ll handle it.

Grappling. My fingers lock around its neck and I squeeze.

I’ll squeeze until it bursts in colors of crimson and ultramarine

Black and white and emerald green. Yellow oxide.

Colors of flames and explosions. Colors of forests
and dark haunted lakes. Sunsets, fogged banks, and cityscapes

I’ll squeeze these tubes of color onto a palette and scoop them up

With bristles, real and synthetic.

The only way to tell you what you do to me

Is through acrylics.

On stretched canvas.