i've sat up
late at night drawing
by candlelight
on my sketch pad
with a charcoal pencil.
i'm drawing
houses and animals.
faces from memory.
landscapes,
oceans.
shadowing the rooftops
of villages,
and alleys,
chimneys with smoke.
blades of grass.
the curves of women.
i pin them to the walls
of my bedroom.
my artwork.
they wait for the opportunity
to be seen and admired.
but there's no line
out the door
anymore, like they're
used to be.
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