Art

Art is on my hands

Thin vines weaving between my fingers and down my wrist

Smudges on my fingertips.

Art is on my tongue

Bits of paint crept in my mouth and made themselves at home

Pastels reside between my teeth.

Art is in my eyes

I rubbed them sleepily as I created my world and now flakes slide out with tears

You can see the reflection of my masterpiece within them.

Art is in my nose

I breathed in the charcoal powder and it got caught somewhere in between.

The scent of markers is perfume.

Art is in my blood

Rushing through me with an endless strength of new ideas

It fills me up and gives me life.

Art is on my hands

Thin vines weaving between my fingers and down my wrist

Smudges on my fingertips.

Art is on my tongue

Bits of paint crept in my mouth and made themselves at home

Pastels reside between my teeth.

Art is in my eyes

I rubbed them sleepily as I created my world and now flakes slide out with tears

You can see the reflection of my masterpiece within them.

Art is in my nose

I breathed in the charcoal powder and it got caught somewhere in between.

The scent of markers is perfume.

Art is in my blood

Rushing through me with an endless strength of new ideas

It fills me up and gives me life.