Art is just one way into
the waywardness of us.
Our minds meander from Monet to mayhem,
seeking Cézanne
in autumn's colours
and lutes in love.
We slow-dance in private
and the sheets sing symphonies.
Colouring me in with you,
we make our own magic
without a single trick,
lighting up the sky.
First three Chapters....
15 years ago
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