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bforshortPoems
Never aspired to be some kind of untouched, blank wall— plain, pale, and ****** I think of artists’ hands on a living canvas— and I get giddy. These naked inches hand-painted in poetry by steady fingers. Play me some Otis as he sinks that ink for keeps. Suddenly, I'm art.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
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Never aspired to be some kind of untouched, blank wall— plain, pale, and ****** I think of artists’ hands on a living canvas— and I get giddy. These naked inches hand-painted in poetry by steady fingers. Play me some Otis as he sinks that ink for keeps. Suddenly, I'm art.
linked haiku © Bitsy Sanders, June 2014
bforshort
Written by
bforshort
36/F/American
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
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