The wooden handle packed with fibers,
is waiting for the presence of your hand
to gently hug its neck.
You have to submerge the brush into water:
relieving the tension
And quenching it’s thirst
like the essential flood during a drought.
an acrylic polymer emulsion and pigment,
begs of you to be careful.
It does not want to intrude
the striped party on your shirt.
The white canvas.
So imperfectly perfect,
with its perfect texture,
It silently screams for diversity.
The brush meets the canvas.
Their small argument turns into war,
with the brush beating its opponent
and leaving battle scars behind.
But their brawls always seem to add dimension and life
into your masterpiece.