as it is in art part 1

moments whistle past
my cheeks alive with breezes
scars across my face
are spread out like antennas
nothing new to them

the painter and the angel
pose for one another
out of artful duty
in which this leaves them speechless
nothing new to them

a drip a drop an eyelet hole
remember me she says
fleeting past before i knew it ....
muse go through me
like the wind