The Undrawn Picture

I’ll sit and write until

my pen becomes

my hand

Until my brain is splattered

Over the page

With my heart’s chime

Murmuring through

The black ink pages

Until every word I’ve ever heard

Is knitted

And pierced onto another

If I could knit us together I would leave the fraying edges

Sew our heartstrings

With burnt paper and string

All I need is a piece of charcoal

And

A rock

To sketch out

Draw a picture I’ll never be able to replicate

Not because I’m a bad artist

But because I don’t have the time

So I’ll knit us

Put it in a case

And admire on the wall

That undrawn picture