Spewing the blood in my heart on a canvas.
The art of love.

Throwing into the sky the sounds of my pulse. The beauty of a heartbeat.

Joy in the textures of the secrets the sun shows. The consciousness in touch.

Flowing poetry is my music for the deaf, true noise that cannot be heard. The light in word.

Birds flying with none but the wings of their souls. The colour in freedom.

Taken by the heat waves, water in the barren; thirstless. The grace in inner peace.

Pulchritude's Hide, delicacy of a rough shell; Apollo's painting. The artistry of skin.

I am an Artist, my Being my Art.