You say great artists sell their souls for their art?”

“Maybe,” she ventured.

“That’s true, I suppose. If you’re doing it right, anyway. I’ve probably sold mine. Jack’s certainly sold his. And you, I imagine.”

“I have not!” she said, anger showing clear in her eyes.

“Not literally,” he said hastily. “But we give up being a person to be an artist, don’t we?

Transcendence is before you should you choose to take a swim.

Into your deep blue you dive and all that is within.

Referred to as my subconscious so you may understand me clear.

But there’s nothing very simple about the message I’m sending here.

The colour of your blood, the liquid through your veins,

is really just a pathway to the place that feels your pains.

The heart is an ocean but within it there’s a sun, submerged beneath the ocean, and all that is but one.

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