Behind the walls, a woman is painting.
Strokes and petals for flowers in her mind.
No photo, no vase, no buds, just lines…
Bloomed their way to her spirit for her to find.
The colors never written,
Only realistic in time.
A time where she dreamed them within
her imagination.
From a world of no contemplation or hesitation.
Moving with the flow,
No corner or space you can’t go.
And so she went.
With her paintbrush and her canvas.
From imagination to existence.
Creation is so.

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