Art, thou my duty?
perhaps thou Art my necessity-
my respite from numbed negligent
washed-out blurs

when I stray from your gaze, thou Art my scolding mother
retracting my footprints
reeling in my philosophies and
signing them with your brutish mark.

you let me see nothing,
without first whispering what should be captured.

But I am the gasping fish.
truth be told-
you only come when beckoned

I haunt you like a mosquito to a sleeper.

I need you to pound my head with energy
fill my stupor with crazed innovation
force my hand upon crayons, pencil, marker
to capture your ambiguous sighs.

I am thy vessel-
you Art my soul.