6 October 2009
I picked four canvases,
though quantity has never been an object--
I always fill the empty spaces. I didn’t realize
there were two such, untouched, against a wall
at home, hiding behind neglected work
like the words I’ve tried to write of late.
I’ve waited too long, spoken too little--
there’s a perfect whiteness cluttering my mind.
I can’t find the component shards of possibility
until I’ve brought a new one home.
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