Standard beige is so redundant

Dark neutral is just a storm cloud over a wheat plain

You said I was porcelain no 11 and i cried why not 1. Why


I am only drawn to colors that demand patience that can be wrought with a finer knife, a thinner paper

Substituting white for black

is what you call a bezold


I sweep shadows over my eyes.

A first.

I draw parallel lines over my lids to establish discernable boundaries.

My eyes release ink but it’s of the clear kind of no color

This has no meaning. Only color brings meaning — the hue is hewed.

All washes are watched transparence. All transparence is washed

watch. You tell me I am

not recognizable. But I am

sizable I cry

am I not. Am

I not?

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