I pulled off the last sheet of watercolour paper from my block.
I'm wondering if it isn't okay.
Anyway.
When I'm done with these three hallway pieces.
I'm done with sharing heart.
I can paint with tissue and blood.
Shit and mud.
Your face and mine.
Beer and wine.
A childs cry.
The birds that die.
I can paint with anything.
Faded porch.
Twisted swing.
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