Lotuses unfolding
into dreamfish,
slurrying into
queer failure:
how the
compression
fails me
(or have I
failed the
vine and
charcoal?),
too untrained
for even fingering,
too feral
for firmness
against paper
that may wish
to tiger
back.
But the lesson
is in drawing
value out
of shadows,
brave listening
to gestures
in their palaces,
silken to their
own private
touch.