Black Art

While sketching
an empty canvas
with minds eyes
I lost trajectory
of my pointed pencil
holding graphite fingers around
manacle to its unfulfilled wish

To impassioned heart mine
I found empty layers
of seasoned fall
Doting thousand pains
with the thinnest art
that grew tamer and tamer
figures all blurring out

On wide stretch
of the sweetest canvas
Laying au naturel
I opened my bare chest
perforated with black marks
What art are thou, pencil
That took revenge with black art

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