A girl’s been striking and stirring her most artistic senses – blood-thirsty arisen and hiding, guisingly guided by all of these spontaneous and harrowingly sparse things

A raving artists other half – a perfect second part of the whole entire beatnik process
Blindingly mismatched and trappingly astute – soon as a water-spattered, paint-enveloped, multi-formulaic and ferociously faceted bristled brush touches the telltale surface

And it all begins to manage to make half-way-there sense again – A whole wide worldly gain in maniacal movement aside this … etch-a-sketch inescapable wanderlust behaviour, perpetrated harshly aside ash-tray inflamed motivation

Derision falls away to fabricated fantasy and creaks and cracks and crawls and cradles the lucid dream – caught on candid canvas
Wherein her livid breathing eye-line / line of the inspired eye meets the centre-point of visual vocal precision : anointing one such red-ribboned muse wholeheartedly interlocked, interloped til scope-less and utterly impenetrable

This. Appears. To. Be. The. Vocation.
The fifth note of symphonic explosion, which floats flatly, altogether fair affably about the break of her butterfly-winged brain, will need to make it oh so very unjustifiably unique

All over again and at unforgettably forgettable pace – there is taste, and then… there. has. to. be. Emerald. Idle. this

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