Im not capable of drinking
while walking,
or reading while in motion.

But I can write a sonnet ,
ode to you,
with my eyes closed,
left handed.
I can fall deep in love
with you repeatedly,
on a day when the world is crashing,
and my heart is outside of itself,
begging to beat again.

Its impossible for me,
to move my body with no rhythm.
And forget about staying inside the lines when I color.

But I can describe the lines of your face to a blind sketch artist for fun.
I can play back in song the sound the phone makes when I dial your number,
because its the only one I know.

I can't do many things,
you see.
But I can paint this page in love letters and cross my fingers,
hoping you'll read it.