What drugs had we taken, young Vincent and I
when painting our oils all over the sky?
My clouds dancing turquoise and tangerine twirls,
the lilac reflections on mountain snowflakes
and mirroring faces in amethyst lakes,
with pink pie-shaped rooves and deep green forest breaks
all swirling like snakes and  half-grown ballet girls

But Vincent drew nighttime as starlight awakes.

			31 March 2024