a masterpiece pieced together
by strong man hands.
he was craftsman.
an artist pain.ting shades of beautiful.
his art even induced chills in him.
a canvas meant only for his hands to harass-
to coerce into beauty
whether willingly or complacently,
the art never complained.
pale canvass skin succumbed to his hold
and held still allowing him to pain.t pictures
pictures of pain and angst
of love and hurt
of dissatisfaction and insecurity
of what is holy and what is heart achy.
He always washed before beginning.
BismilLah
wash face
::forehead to chin
BismilLah
wash finger tips
::to elbow’s bend
BismilLah
brush over hair
BismilLah
wash toes to ankles
Began in the name of God
maintaining that he-
seemingly-
submitted to
true hierarchy.
scripture “instructed” him to pain.t
and so he did – glad to…obey.
so his hands slid::collided:::crashed
into canvass.
She purred through the pressure of this process
to have a master paint upon her…
favoring!
so she bore it as best she could.
His hungry eyes-
devouring this coloring-
mouth salivating
at the thought of beating upon flesh
of light skinned canvass.
His mind wandered in wonder
at what shape his masterpiece
would take tomorrow
because everyday
was so different.
:::::::
Fists flash forward into canvass.
leaving 8 perfect imprintations
reveling in dirtying hands
-seeking salvation
through pain.ting.
He fantasized about
beautifying her all day.
He painted her in shades of red first.
Deep reds rushing to skin’s surface.
pulsing only the way red can.
purple followed pink and red.
tender to the touch at purple.
He marveled at his mastery most at this stage.
It made his heart race-
it made his palms sweet with sweat
sweet sweat – in obedience of God.
It made his face light up.
purple into black and blue
He thrived on these hues.
canvass & wife.
A record keeper of his beastly behavior.
She is a masterpiece of patience
that will stand on the last day,
as a testament
to his
unintelligent
irrational
revolting
misinterpretation.
On the last day,
those strokes-
his hues
will haunt him
on his way to hell.
The Prophet never struck a woman. Never. peace, mercy and blessings be upon our sweet and gentle perfect example.
