Painting

Tell me if the splatters make
sense.
I can’t see from here
I have zoomed in
close,
then pulled away.
Turned and hid.

Now it is for all to see
I’d love
to be
informed
that the splatters
made
sense.

My pigments bleed
into one another
forming
voids
non colour
through
bastardised pollination.

It leaves me confident
its not just me.
Happy accidents
happen
always
at the best time.
Although,
for a split second
your world crumbles,
but is then
revitalised.

Dreams
could not
predict this
Trips
couldn’t
take you
and nightmares
have their
sound turned
down

compared to this.