Your touch becomes tainted, with each and every single breath taken – it repeats the way it goes – all the way around the soul…
Head full of dreams and goals, with some things spinning out of control. Would you travel the world with me? Would you be willing to
Steam rising from a tea cup, Her fingers stirring pen. Thoughts getting over break up Of fictional intent. She’s breathing hard, Her eyes are cold;
Here are some short sketches that got drawn up while I traveled. If you wish to use it, please leave a “Thank you” comment below.