our bodies long for the unattended spaces on the bench outside the church, where we saw the sky turning from orange to red of our love. it has been uncountable days locked in the heavy briefcases of sad years, and i still find that place painted in bold, broken words whenever the sky is washed up with the same colors, but with a hidden hint of grief this time. the place mourns, and the cries go unrequited, untended like the obituary section of a well-stained newspaper. i just wanted to know if you could hear the commotion or did the voices found their graves inside me?
Working on my first ever #blackoutpoem !!! Swipe to see the text I'm using and the words I've chosen - the standard tourist leaflet guide to Marina Bay Sands downtown in Singapore. I'm using cheap art supplies and I'll have to go over the words again because the pen isn't combining well with the plasticky colour pencil, but I'm happy I started. I also want to do some more decorating on the page. I'll post again when I've finished. I'm not in a position to be bogged down by large amounts of art supplies but can't wait to get paints, glue etc so I can do this even better, but so far so good 😄