Meeting The Art

They were a beauteous couple, devoted to the art. The art fed them.

Her, with her golden sprawled hair. he, with his deep cavern eyes. They were locked in each others fog. They spoke a silent language that the art gave them.

Speak to me, my love. Tell me the times. Tell me the how. If I have a need to know who but else will tell. the crisp talk is all. The sharp rendering of our love will take us. We are but the art. We have naught else all.

They produced success after success, climax after climax. Beauty resonated from within. Life melded with the art and left neither wanting.