Sprawled across the canvas was not ink.
It was not acrylic, neither chalk, nor charcoal-
It was nothing tangible
To the eyes that could not see.

And so I began to tell them about her;
Her bristles of part oxygen, mostly nitrogen, which led me
And taught me how to be free
And to be present- without actually being there.

I told them about how
She didn't know I was well-versed
In the art of being invisible, so

I taught her how to rebel
And to silently suffocate
And to do it without getting caught-

"That's enough,"
"But I wasn't finishe-"
"Sit!"

But I did not.
I sneered at Tom's pet lizard,
I stood proud before my class
Holding her, and bowed.