Layers upon layers of bees wax and pigment. Built up. Scraped away. Time built up. Scraped away. Eroded. Images flung out of landscapes.Light contemplated on the wing. On the ground. Dissolving in the air. Movement captured in the stillness.Stillness like glass in movement. Black captured in darkness. So dark it is hard to see your hands. Blue so tense it breaks your eyes. I will sit with Yellow. I will whisper your name.