Timeless emotion on the faces of the three
brothers rock. Faithful keepers of the painted
cloth and the book of myths.
Winter desert gales centuries old shaped their
stoical faces into the mold and stone decay
they commandingly portray.
The winds ~
it was the winds that made them happen.
From several miles above ~
the others exist alone in the middle of
absolutely nothing but control everything around
them. Eyes like a knife
on the universe
they mumble the electrodes back and forth
between minds.
The Sun And Moon
Keep Their Struggle In The
Sky,
But When They Sex The
Tempest ~
They Draw Me In. *
They wait for one to come and unravel the
scrolls and feed their platinum eyes.
They wait for one to come and decipher the
paint and tell the tale.
Centuries old
~ the myths
and the paint.
Jan. 13, ‘98 – Mar. 6, ‘00
Victor Millan
*(the sun and moon keep their struggle in the sky, but when they sex the tempest ~ they draw me in)
*(the sun and moon keep their struggle in the sky, but when they sex the tempest ~ they draw me in)
Artwork by Eddy Millan
To see more of Eddy's art please visit http://semigod.com/
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