In pain, is there really healing?
In love, is there really meaning?
In absence, can you reminisce?
In distance, can you find peace?

Of black and white, of yellow ocher and phthalo blue
I used to love you;
Like the paints of my canvas
Like the strokes of my sketches
I should have healed from my sadness.

Of silhouettes and shadows, of classics and antiquity,
I used to adore you;
Like the contours of my paintings
Like my candid compositions
I should have loved you with a little bit of caution.

❤

BC