Tiny Hands Touch Big Apples | Eve
1:20:00 AM
Click HERE for an explanation and behind the scenes look at this piece.
In a moment, I lost my heart. When you held me, before you killed me. In a moment, the apple fell from the tree.
I'm a fool, for indulging in you. For hoping you would make, something of me. You asked for the apple, but your hand pointed back at me.
Am I missed? Sometimes I think you might. I feel a surge of triumph.To be missed.And then I am angry. Because I am longing.
Do hands of soap stay clean? Am I the only one to blame. As I tend to the decaying fruit, of the garden we fell from. I mend their skins. I stitch their empty shells.
2 comments
This is incredible!! How did you do this?! The awe *insert hearts in eyes*. I cant believe I know someone as talented as you. Teach me your ways!!
ReplyDeleteThank you for this. This is so incredibly deep and symbolic. I feel it. So this is art. I wish someone introduced me earlier.
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