She has no dreams,
She is an artist.
Her hands skimming across
a blank canvas.
Flowing, Mending, Creating.
Maybe that’s where they go, I imagine,
her dreams,
from mind
through hands
into reality.
Oh, how I wish to hold them.
But they’re not mine to own.
No. No. No.
That’s an interesting read. . Happy to connect π
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Thanks and glad to do the same any day.
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Do check out my writings too, will appreciate your reviews π
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Will do!
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Simply written but so, so beautiful. Write a book already!! π
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Ha. Thanks, maybe one day.
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