the basics of painting

Mistakes were not allowed, so I lay myself at the feet of those who had made them:

egregious ones, violent ones, the kinds of mistakes to which the culture turns a body over to a firing squad. 

I give them their medicine, they give me mine.

We wonder about forgiveness. 

They talk about a life colored in by better choices, I ponder life had I let myself 

drop the paint cans altogether, lids loosened and wildly close to the canvas

as if it were as simple as choosing yellow over blue

as if the shadows don’t define the light of every colorful shape.