ATROCIOUS; Im left in...
..such a delectable taste for things.
Selectable but not comprehensible. .
.. to deface what I've seen.
Subtle- balancing lifes gambles; horrifically
Lends the helping hand towards freedom but neglects being enticed.
Her voice succulent like fresh fruits at first bite.
Tearing the wallpaper of such beauty to replace it with scent.
Tracing intent and boarding the window of opportunity.
-Armageddon Is Here
Her gestures are like old R&B songs...
Grooving away the tension; the memories jogged.
Like laying the casket or opening hat tricks,
Feeding the black kids or a fiend aiding what blackens.
She is that strong... she has poise in her posture deflating improper.
Negating the options and proving that instinct
-is not an imposter.
Smooth around the edges but chipping from time,
Her canvas is frivolous with a blank solace.
Capturing moments that never seems to condone us,
Explosive; but only when needing a compositional bonus.
She tends to the opus, painting the sky open...
... to show the rapture of fictional components.
Some say I ramble to the dark and trample the heart,
But u dont feel what I see as my sight is indelible smarts.
I scribble these words to mimick the work...
... that simpletons can only scribe "The Purist Of Art"
-im in love with you