Artwork

I need to read a poem
That one that resides
Inside me, hiding like
A child smeared with
The wall’s artwork in
Telltale brilliant stain
Finger paints, prints
Twinned within guilty
Pleasure measured
By an anxious smile,
Wiped off in designs
On clean jeans, maybe
Purposely spreading
The only proof around,
Longing to be found

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