Portrait of Oxygen

 

You are the sonnet
I would have written
if I could whisper my need into
five
heart
beats
of
rhyme

You are the ballad
I sing to the plaintive yearnings
of strings drawn tight with desire
tempered with fire and fused
into euphonic dreams

You are the shining pigment
that spreads its elegant
sfumato renderings
across my poor canvas
and teases me
with impressionist love

But were I unlettered
voiceless
and blind
you would still be
every breath I drew