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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #1080043
a short poem considering the beauty of artists, art, their desires and intentions
Dried moths delicately spread
like rumours - stretched over wood,
the dull toned wing texture
alluding to age of empty canvas.

Paint inept to expand the experience
of the deceased surface beneath,
illustration, expression invalid,
as Artist yearns to be God.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1080043-aesthetics