I tried painting with a breeze and was greeted
with madness in unseen pulses of light running
through the wind’s veins like wailing screams
and threats in pitches that roam unheard. Instead,
I’ve adorned my canvas using the only tools I claim:
vivid empty gaps whispering just beyond reach,
more potent even than the thickest colored oils
or the most sincere and aggressive ember of charcoal.