Egor Pomortsev There Is No Spoon
My ORP
I could crawl right in to this work. Sneak around the ball, the triangle, the cube. For sure I could be swallowed in the shadows. It is a sensual, pleasing type of touch they hold me with. They caress and entice, and invite me to linger. As if slipping warm velvety silk betwixt my senses.(sensibilities), I yearn to linger. Slide my wits through its caresses just a little longer.
