This thing is not a canvas!

This a poem I wrote about a few men in my life.


This thing is not a canvas!
It is soft and curved,
with spikes jutting out here,
and some uncomfortable potholes there.
It is smothered with slathers of paint,
all different colours.
Some of it is still wet -
careful now.
This thing is not a canvas!
and I am at a loss
as to how you mistook it as such.
I guess you see
what you want
to see.
But if you try to project yourself
onto this thing,
you will find
that it won't take your image
very well.
It won't reflect back
a picture
of you.
It can't.
It's already a thing -
coloured and textured,
ugly and beautiful,
all the dimensions present.
This thing is not a canvas!
If you want to look at yourself,
please don't look to me.
Go find yourself
a blank canvas,
devoid of bumps and freckles and laughlines.
Or even better,
Go find yourself a mirror.