The colours of my soul spread on the paper dripping through that brush expanding at the contact of water in wet paper. the brush slides my soul colours spread themselves, mixing with one another. it’s a dance, it’s a rythm it’s a song.
The colours of my soul spread on the paper dripping through that brush expanding at the contact of water in wet paper. the brush slides my soul colours spread themselves, mixing with one another. it’s a dance, it’s a rythm it’s a song.