Give Me A Hand

Many offered

to give me a hand

to paint the man red.

They thought the town 

would be next,

but they were mistaken.

The background was to be in

a different palette,

darker, more sombre.

I asked them to wear gloves.

That way I knew I could 

preserve their memory like

the long dried up palette,

peeling their outer skin

like the gloves.

Like the gloves,

I hung them all

out to dry.


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