Tuesday, August 29, 2017


She is a painting. Unclear. Her lines are blurry. Tell her over and over what she is not. See what you need to see. Bared beneath a shining beacon to highlight the very best of her.

Against a stark white backdrop. You pass her by and do not notice her at all. Or you ponder her caress her, are curious about her. What do you see I wonder?

She is lost in vibrant colors. I show you the violet and cobalt. You see past the ebony or the dull white faded in the background. Escaping one reality mired in what she had desired and wanted. Locked in place for all eyes are upon her.

Inside herself she is expression. Glory. Shining in hope. All of her dreams awash this painted canvas in every stroke. Do you see? Her smile is to behold and her soul worn for all to see. She has no secrets. If you ask her. Breaking free of thought and pattern. She is without reason. In her mind she is art. A gift.

She is cinder. Risen from ashes weighted against her ankles. Imagining what could be. 

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