Here I Am

I have left all my colors behind.
Pallets stacked, brushes clean, knives pared and separated
tubes blown, pencils sharpened and stacked.
How thick the live Now. How fine the live Now.
Walking free and waiting to be called, my mind is cloven,
split off from the sticks of color, oils, jars, paper in shreds and stacks.
I am intact.
Everything is out. Behind me.
I am ready.

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