Dream With Me A Little Longer

In the whirl of petals wide, an eye unfolds, no place to hide. Around it swirl in painted scars, bright bruises masked as falling stars. It watches all but lets none in, a bloom of color, paper-thin. True love—tell me, is it true? Or just a shade I never knew? I lean to touch the glowing rim, but every edge grows faint and dim. I watch your gaze like distant skies, so full of light, our last good-byes. I reach, but something always slips— a name, a truth, a final wish. The iris spins, the colors bleed, but never gives me what I need. I wonder what this eye will hold— is it rummage, or is it gold? A thousand hues, but none remain, just painted joy, and painted pain. ___ It pulstates so beautifully, and changes colors throughout the day. ___ Alyssa Deabenderfer. Acrylic and oil pastels on stretched canvas. 2024 16"x20" ____ *painting is larger on OWW for better viewer experience. ____ lyssagal.com instagram.com/lyssagal