Prepare her masterpiece, please. And bring with it dubious levels of inhumane humanity and innermost irregular angst, a cunning and concentrated ploy which can call to cause constant creativity. To placidly capture one artist’s uncertain hand.
She never quite knew her rudest, shrewdest, sharpest nerves – did she though?
Nor their reawakening and reissued afterthoughts, not one bit but for the split between each eager second which seeps.
