Bare

I think others find it a bit alarming,

how quickly I clean the slate

I am an artist who carefully peels away the day’s paint from the canvas before I sleep.

from shallow lines, whisper touches

to deep valleys, pressed almost through to the other side

all taken care of, with the gently purposeful hand of a new mother.

all taken care of, with the gently purposeful hand of an old daughter.

It’s better this way;

I keep myself perpetual in the sterile white hands of a new day