the painting i did of you

i look at the painting
i did of you
when we first met
thats been hanging
in my house
almost since then
and my god
i see in it
everything ive just
learned about you
everything i didnt
really get
about my own
painting
becomes clearer
as you near me.

there it is- there-
in that pthalo blue-
the story of how
they kidnapped you
and every tear you
never shed
swims in the smeary
brushstroke
of your oily head

things i didnt "know"
till now
i saw that night
in your face somehow-
if i could jump in a machine
and go back there
to back you up
i would
but
i admire
how you
handled it.
you didnt need
me then
and you dont
need me
now
and it makes me
love you
more
somehow