Art Gallery

Shout it from the midst of crowds.
I would.
But a cupped hand to an ear
may be more conspicuous.
Whatever your choice,
----------------choose your poison

The familiar blood rush
with a new touch of adrenaline.
Was it the way her hair curled?
An explosion of amber,
peaking with a sparkle in her eye.

My dead give-aways,
canvassed over with lids,
blank and ready for the masterwork of my memories,
unfolding and running over each other.
Bubbling brooks of smiles and laughs,
whispering like trees with their secrets.