A rock around her neck for a star sign birth: another necklace bought by another sandal-sock boyfriend. Time for a new piece of jewellery, don't you think? One thatβs classy, studded, anything but pink. It might hang loosely lapping up the line of air, that will linger past you when walking to train station, work station, another day of painted creation.
Keep the brushes close and the oils closer, canvas in the post, ready for closure. Youβre the score and the baton, the lines of manuscript, my composer.