Form,
Function.
I sculpt
The words inside
The frame of aesthetic perfection
Every letter, every space, in its rightful place.
But who is right to proclaim
The words beautiful
When without
Essence?
Thoughts
Are written
The image implied
Through a painting much unseen
Every word, every break, something that I make.
But where can there exist
Elegant phrase, which
Concludes with
Widows?