paint me a picture with countable stanzas, colors that rhyme directly and slant, paint me a plot that stands up for itself, or a moment in time inherently deep; paint me the lines that twist their own language, the form a bit playful, but in essence quite deep; paint me a picture that explains its own being, then takes that same being, and twists it around. paint me a poem that's naked when clothed, with innocent yang and experienced yin, make it sing loudly the chords of the soul and paint it again, and again, and again.