I painted with my fingers, traced them white,

orange, blue on a black-as-night construction

sheet. As my toddlers giggled around

me, I pressed harder and harder, almost

tearing through the paper. But when they stared

at my scribbled page, I showed them how

to take a brush and smooth it all away.

Circles and dots, fingerprints that won’t leave

turned to lines and thistles streaking through dark.

As the kids got up and washed their hands, I stayed

and placed my purple fingers underneath

the wood table, knowing they would stay.

3 thoughts on “Fingerpainting

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