She is in-love with the next great artist – a beautiful, fully malfunctioning amount of hidden identity up on upon his maladjusted part

He attires a tirelessly mistaken soul for portraiture and pours, places his coined coffee at one side, multiple times and the mid-winter breeze sways and satisfyingly plays with itself midst freeze-framed intelligence

Around women like this, they do indeed mean to make aside incrementally paint – a delectable, fully-featured picture

Utterly unaware as to exactly where his last great minuscule masterpiece came through via this ethereal divide, between certainty and draining pain – it will scream ten ways against aforementioned tenuously displaced breeze

A slacking that happened

At breakneck speed, he witnesses a final collaborative feeling, for many and all these things

Insidious, gargantuan, completely opened to chosen perspective – r-e-s-p-e-c-t the inevitable, altogether enviable feelings far-fetched, -stressed, – stretched and pulling for their fallen nature wherein, the summer shore shall strip

All ego away, and replace it with a decidedly juvenile smile awhile

They found her bohemian body in the farthest-most reaches of his pickled brain – pained til miserly painted, instrumentally whip-smart at hiding
Her artless darting heart – it wasn’t a homicide, ’twas an artful endeavour inside til inner within

The farthest-most sincere reaches of her misguided brain – for she was but a Lolita-like juvenile … one of an atrocious kind