Afford a Box of Colors

Drool on the rug 
and lie.  
It's for art, 
see see 
how it stains. 
Darker there than here, 
a trail suggesting... 
don't believe 
if you don't like. 
I know what I know.  
You don't.  
 
Promise Angela 
I'll find a cash machine, 
one printing green 
and fueled by time.
I'll spend a few hours -- 
no more than eight -- 
to crank the mechanism;
and when I 
get home 
I'll hit the basement.  
Best to vent 
where 
there are no windows.  
In the cool and stagnant,
I can play 
the person I planned -- 
forget the ways 
I'm wise 
from experiences
I promised not to have.  
I always knew better 
before I was... adult.  
 
Quit for reasons 
I won't admit. 
The boss is a crook, 
and I'm a liar. 
The cashier can't count -- 
I always had this much.  
What's the crime in wanting 
five for lunch? 
Stopped at the tavern 
and drank at the rise 
of a tequila sun...only one,
I can't swear.  

She'll be pissed 
but oh well. 
Let down before. 
Scarred enough to numb, 
I'm sure she can take another.
Why not (?) 
push the envelope 
at its thinnest -- 
slips between cracks better.  
 
The seed of a promise 
planted when 
no one was looking; 
and the hope goes round:  
none will ask 
for fulfillment. 
But if any does,
a root's spreading claws.  
Hint there might be a tree 
and the questions leave.  
 
Of course I love her.  
I'll paint the world brighter 
just as soon as 
I can afford 
a box of colors.