circles

my therapist
told me to paint
she said,
staring at her
hands, the long
fingers
splattered with
browns and blacks,
deep blues.
he said that it
would relieve
the tension of
my marriage,
my job, and children,
that by creating
something i could
get outside my
self. what do you
think, she said,
and pointed
at the dozens
of canvasses leaning
against her
bedroom wall.
they were circles
and circles of
black and brown,
deep blue, spirals,
whirpools, drains
of utter
darkness. i don't
think it's working,
i told her.