As a child, pink was of no interest and yet now, it swims gently toward your eyes. I prefer pink radishes to red. However, with poetry red always wins my favor especially if shoe, involved.
Each dab of paint is a wish to mark time and the beat of a heart, a wish for beauty to unfold itself like a dormant being--small gestures to counteract the large egress of reason.
Working on a book with a friend
ReplyDeleteEach dab of paint is a wish to mark time and the beat of a heart, a wish for beauty to unfold itself like a dormant being--small gestures to counteract the large egress of reason.