By Sara Malott
I was sitting at my desk and I switched
on the lamp. There she was,
ready to dance with the pencil in my hand,
I move away but she follows.
Her outline is startling, she’s abstract
I reach to touch her wandering body,
but I realize there is nothing to grab onto.
I want her to take my hand
and dip it into her colorless world.
I’m too comfortable here with the greens and the blues.
She stretches out her fingers,
working her way into my thoughts.
It’s incredible, the way she can transform
into the words on the page in front of me.
It is no longer my desk, it’s her home.
But her time here is over for now.
I pack everything up, I fold it all away.
I shut off the lamp–
she was gone.