40. Washed away

My sins have been washed away by rain.
All the colours of my past
— red, green, blue —
Are gone.

Only the black ink of my memory stains my skin now.

Let my body be my canvas,
Don’t judge me.
My body is mine,
My words are sacred to me.

©Brindology 2016 & Belinda Low
©Original artwork by Belinda Low

If you like Belinda’s artwork and are interested in finding out more about her paintings, please visit Belinda Low.

If you like this post and would like to read more of my poems, please follow Brindology. 

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