© EXPOSED
Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved
’Twas the season of
the thawed, frostbitten
pen and brush and a
mad woman’s long-kept
secret in the attic
of her temple that began with
words and hues losing
power because they
were never spoken for
ears to hear nor
brought into the
light for eyes to see.
She danced around in
a half-hidden war zone
on the edge of the
universe worried whether
a room crowded with
critics would or could
appreciate the life
and love she breathed into
her children left hanging
on bland walls and
bound in inked pulp to
be plucked from tabletops.
(art: American artist Michael Volpicelli creates detailed portraits of people and animals out of written words related to them.)
Thank you. Appreciate this
ReplyDeletethank you Martin :)
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