Hearts are thrown at strangers, aren't they?
Splattered on a canvas
or scrawled on a wall.
Art
is just
a husk of form,
without the artless agony
of daily life:
the strangled scream
and the carving knife.
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Holden Moncrieff
Sun 5th Mar 2023 03:18
Succinct and impeccable, John! 🌷