A flickering light afar
And I sit, cross-legged
Underneath a huge black canvas
A few strokes from my brush
Causing drips and droplets
To spread sparse, uneven
On the huge black canvas
Blank canvas –
Now stroked, white –
White spots big and small
I track them through my finger tips joining and covering awkward spaces
Forming shapes known to me
Read by me,
Felt on my fingertips
Rushed on through my nerves
A starry intervention
My sky never looked as beautiful.


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