Rhythmic Delight aka Poetry
Oil on Paper
I grasp the color between my thumb and index finger, light and flexible Glide the pastel against paper like it’s a skate on ice, smooth and
April 8, 2017
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A Fool’s Mind
She used to think she– She was the glue that binds them, Instead without her, They glow with freedoms, she never could witness.
April 8, 2017
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