to my painter,

I appreciate you —

how your impasto glistens

my torpid frame into a patina,

how you ram your fingers

underneath the chipped edges

of the paint like a williwaw

prying at its victims, how you drape

me in coat after coat of varnish

basting my pores shut like

stomata folding at night.

And when the visitors arrive,

their fingers grazing my new skin,

how they revel about the new

flowers you painted, that I hated,

on me — white daffodils fraying in the wind.

How they splutter that this hue of blue,

that you submerged me, browbeaten, in,

was the best they’ve ever seen me. And

your grin — unforgettable — splits

into a laugh I’d never

heard before

from you.

Perhaps I really am at my best

when I am polished to perfection,

under the foams of shellac

offered up to the mercy

of your visitors’ surveillance —

I am, forever, a wall,

posing

for them

for you.

Sheza T. is a teen poet whose works feature a variety of forms, themes, and stories. She was the InkWellness: Creative Writing for Healing 2024 Winner, and her work is forthcoming in Modern Haiku and Kingfisher.