missing little piece’s buried in the box no edging left can’t get through the locks to retrieve through ground

a convitare of pastries and tea ricevimento of the package a little ballo on skates picking the paint off the fence to place in the box and wrap

turning the faucet on and asking for something and out it pours, free flowing and full of color, abstract for the eye to see

if only to have him see that the inside of the marble wont roll, tilted but the pink of the rose will go up the nose

making one gear smaller to slow the time can make it holler will the other hear the sound of the dollar

as it’s moisture fills the cracks… my lips, and i slowly draw my hand from my hips to appeal to it the bliss of the pure essence delivered from such a small burst

the light seeping through the crac… as the soul longs to be seen spraying colors of emotions as seeing the soul with clear lens the split mirror shows two sides

what is the focus while the continuous diving off the plank is performed for art sake’s the seeping in as moths

abstract paint i did again after many years gone by forgot the feeling of the strokes mixing of hews to blend much like poetry, never seeing

taking life as a child with ease of wonder dropping the emotions that life bestows will start the healing

the tales find words in them the weepings from the finger print… speak through words UN-know little smears of oil mixed with du… pressed down in ink, some would sa…