Stroke soft, with the very tip of a brush.
Meet perfection. Drawn. Praised. Wanted?
Verbs are deemed. Minutes, hours... hush.
How long can one stay, or, be willingly haunted,
To love, what he thinks faultlessness,
Observe’t in the rite of all revered.
To learn of his own meaningless,
Deny, to remain a pervert, or be,
Mortally worthy to all, keep hopes
On shelves, crusted ‘ever’. Love not.
Llove it short, love it tall.... Painting sun,
Painting moon, painting desert...
Artistry confessed
© Copyright: Fern, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104051300262
Свидетельство о публикации №104051300262
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don't be pervert in art! it's everywhere, people are insane of animal insincts and it's getting too boring...
love should be in the brain not just in the bottom part of the body...
girl-dandelion
Девочка-Одуванчик 14.05.2004 05:56 • Заявить о нарушении
love should be in the brain not just in the bottom part of the body...
girl-dandelion
Девочка-Одуванчик 14.05.2004 05:56 • Заявить о нарушении
My dear La Famme Connaissance, I beg your pardon for invocations sinister my po’m(s) has crushed on you. But to the unfortunes most thy humble servant is a barer of loins evil and, to much more shame has known no rest from the moment they came to learn skill and pleasure… not to say sexes opposite. Incaged, till this day, in my thoughts and doings I meekly moan pleadings for release without much effect. If you know of a potion or, procedures freeing, please, please, please, light you knowledge bright, so no earthly mystery escapes and logic with yellow sun of hypocrisy and blue skies of nofeel, reign ever!
Frigidly yours,
:))))))))))))))))))))))
Fern 14.05.2004 19:04 Заявить о нарушении
Frigidly yours,
:))))))))))))))))))))))
Fern 14.05.2004 19:04 Заявить о нарушении