I may not be able to draw.
My hands are clumsy.
The pen I use isn't the same as my mind.
And the paper is too free sometimes for me to start.


But I can draw.
Maybe not images to the eye.
Certainly never a scene of lust.
More so not with the use of color.


I can draw.
I paint words.
Scenery opens before you like a vast cavern.