The poetess and the paintbrush
Under the silver moon half eaten by the darkness,
a cup of warm tea in her hand, and a paintbrush in the other, a white canvas awaits
her back to pen and paper
tears fall down her cheeks.
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Under the silver moon half eaten by the darkness,
a cup of warm tea in her hand, and a paintbrush in the other, a white canvas awaits
her back to pen and paper
tears fall down her cheeks.
ohh I love it. It is like torn between two lovers.
x,
Becca
It is exactly that!
OOOOOH I LOVE THIS. I LOVE the way you write. I really do.
Oh thank you! And you already know I’m a fan of your writing.