I write him in my sentences,
I write him in my diary.

I print him on pages,
I print him on stories.

I carve him on stones,
I carve him in designs.

I sketch him in my moans,
I sketch him in my mind.

I etch him in tattoo,
I etch him on woods.

I sculpt him in statues,
I sculpt him into the man he stood.

I inscribe him on ripples,
I inscribe him on the swirl of my wine.

I draw him in circles,
I just can’t draw the line.