Perfection

As the brush

Scrapes the paint

Devouring it up

Savouring the colour

Breathing in slowly

Changing forms

Gather along the edges

Of change

Wondrous views

Plummet into an image

Of viewing pupils

As they widen

By the scent

Printed on cold canvass

Edges are the real

Test

Brushing in designed form

Wishing for perfection

As a drip falls

Eyes slowly watch it

Change the flooring underneath

Changing of colour

Like traffic lights

Alarm goes off

In the mind  

They are the enemy

My eyes are

Seeking a hiding place