Paint Claws
How can a cloud be made up of paint that doesn’t splatter?
It’s like someone took gross mustard and smeared it to make that hill in the background.
I don’t get how a painting can have a pond like that.
It just looks fish-less, nothing under there.
If I got so mad that I tore this painting in half?
There would be an obvious tear of anger.
Then you savor the energy.
Continue, slosh.
With paint like grated cheese turning liquid.
Everyone knows your paintbrush wasn’t washed enough.
Everyone can hear you grumbling and grimacing that you’re hungry!
The howl of two paintings.
Have you ever let your paintbrush be alive?
I hear canvas holds onto the old grit from your claws.
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