It smells like art
she said
and the clay
formerly
formless
watched us
watching it
mold itself
into shapes
a myriad
of possibilities
that begged
each and everyone
for fingertips
to be upon them
It smells like art
she said
and the clay
formerly
formless
watched us
watching it
mold itself
into shapes
a myriad
of possibilities
that begged
each and everyone
for fingertips
to be upon them
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