Who knew some paper scraps and branches from a dead avocado tree had so much potential.
Alone, she closed her eyes. Relief from clutter and lies. The imaginary expanse, Put her in a trance. Solitude. What a prize.
How she wanted to paint the room A nice white, like a lily bloom. Since Ecru, Ivory or Buff Would never be enough To rid it of the dusty gloom. -Celeste, the AIM studios
It was a move she had to make. It was time, for goodness sake. To detonate her desire, Would set her on fire. Who knew that’s all it would take.