Draw

Along faintly drafted lines lies

The truth beneath his sketch

Whose bold inks suppose no error

Whose careful shades inspire dimension

Each imprint left, each indiscretion measured

In half erasure, in half breaths

As the soul comes into view

In its glorious imperfection

And so, the scratches ease their way

Into indenture, binding what is with

Who was, finding your gift

Among pages of discarded thoughts

As the artist becomes the art

As the lover finds his heart

Exposed upon his canvas

I have found myself, it seems

In recording the moments between

Unconsciousness and lucidity

When the world is but a dream

And I still see the imprints

Left upon me by the night's sleep

When all is whole, before we suppose

Anything might never be

I drew her as the night veiled

A moon shining fervently

Through all the clouds could exhale

In whispers across the sea

I sketched her as a ship at sail

As a faerie caught unaware

As the mischievous fox

And the regal tigress

I drew her as an angel

Whose wings stretched themselves

Along the length of her flesh

I traced her from memory

The blessing of a waking dream

Who lays so quiet on those pages now

Not me, as my pen races furiously

To capture the image of her sunset

Before she lays behind some distant horizon

I have found my love, in dreams

In those moments of complete lucidity

When the world is encompassed by what we see

Lying between those canvassed sheets

And I still see the sketch

Left upon me by a lover's ink

When we were whole, and I could know

That this love would ever be.