But are you an artist, she whispers,
not breathlessly, for there is ample air

No need for any real more subtle,
than here, than now

Be any blue you choose

I bleed wet-on-wet in the wash,
touch sun and turn to life

On the burnt umber I shadow,
pool and run

The suggestion of you,
line with form
and values

...and just like that,
a cloud pass, and
we lose our light

cc: CC '22