Paint

A blank canvas, clean and crisp
Awaits the drops from a rainbow sprayed
pitter patter of a...

She dabs the world with her brushes
And cleans emptiness off canvas with color,
Turning...

You can see it there on the wall.
On the side of city streets.
How exactly can they cover it...

Art

my minds friends are colours
Interpreters of thought

they allow my synapse to...

My hands are never still
never will they be “clean”
imagination never stops
a well...