she casts her pencil like a wand as magic soaks into the page her flannel cascades around her work, shielding it from curious eyes she tilts her head to listen to the lecture, but her heart is elsewhere running through castles and stumbling through candle lit streets colors tangle to mirror the expanse of her dreams she shares her soul with every meticulous stroke each face blessed by her style but never the same when she designs she never aims for perfection for she knows perfect is just a fancy way of saying flawed she erases and redraws as if her art could never satisfy her desires it can always be better but it is never good enough if only she knew I meant it when I told her I loved her drawing her art speaks to me like Mona Lisa never could

My heart sees only you.
My eyes are open,
but it is my heart that sees
everything in beautiful colours.

©️Lizzie Bevis

I smelt the snow that covered the parking lot
Too early to live- too late to close my eyes

It had a familiar tang to the linger sting in the air
My youth- stuck to the back of my throat

In memories of grandmas on christmas day
Preparing desserts that would never taste the same again

Mixed with the exhaust of a cold winter morning
The taint of growing old and fading tree lights

I smelt the snow that covered the parking lot
Too soon i remembered where i was- too soon i opened my eyes