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Untitled
The blank white canvas...
First drop of colour...
A new dream...
A new meaning emerges...
Strokes thro' time create a new emergent
With acquired qualities to turn real.
A haze descends...
I'm unable to read through
New qualities get etched on it
With only remnants of the past visible.
Patterns generate
Though I hardly stroke the canvas....
I'm left with the generated emergent...
An emergent -which leads me
-which absorbs me,
I become part of it...
Now trying to add my own strokes to this pattern
To recreate...
To add a touch of my own...
To make it mine.
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