Paint Laid

I'm wrapped in sheets
of canvas paintings lying
across my chest.
Pine frames against my legs
legs of paintings, faded
worn and repainted
and blurred.

Layers of girls and stories
and dragons and crayonish suns
A tree pressed against
my throat;
wrists of roots against
my sternum.

his ribs of pine braces pressing
tight as the canvas breathes with
moisture
and the girls sweat as they pitch
against
my belly.

-a.M