Quinn

Painter of religious scenes, she stretches other frames, stands quiet before relief, regards things she's honed, adjusts to make a space, doubts she's ever alone, in yellow nights of dreams, even when out the game, nothing is what it seems, in many ways she's prone, looks lost without a name, work comtains her soul, insight lets her see, painting is just like mail, it arrives from history, the pull of other thrones, would not let her deign, serene when someone's gone, art is her Gethsamane, wakes and greets the day, another stroke isr liberty, love is always strange.