The Artist

[litQueen]

I read this last night and couldn't stop thinking about it when I woke up this morning.

The Artist splashed color onto the page,

Her salty tears gave complexity to the colors she brushed on the page.  - I agree with the redundance of "the page" and "colors" here. Maybe just "Her tears gave complexity to the hues she painted"?

As they dripped into the colors,

Each color thanked her for making them come alive.

Blue said,

“I yearned to be the color of the skies,

The color of rushing waters,

Your tears showed me the way”.

Green then exclaimed,

“The color of the leaves in Spring were but an image,

But your being poured into mine,

With each drop I become the very thing I sought”.

Yellow,

With its bright gaze upon the sky, - I would eliminate the "with" here.. Would make for better flow I think

“I blinded myself searching for what gives the Sun its radiance,

However it is your warmth that makes me glisten on the page.”

And Red,

Whose deep and passionate color came from the blood of the artist herself,

Did not speak words at all,

But only danced across the page,

As the artist and her masterpiece became one.

Thank you!