Do you remember when you modeled for me?
I still draw
Your Hands, Feet, and Eyes.
It doesn't matter who I look at
While I create; I create you.
Your parts ensnared in my mind
Like a panting white hare
I don't have the heart
To kill
Or set free.
I can't devour you,
As I never captured you.
I cannot turn you loose,
As you are my desire.

So I create
Your Hands, Feet, Eyes
Again and again.
Each time more perfect
Than the last.
Each time I attempt
To create your rough cuticles
With more precision
Each dapple of pigment
With more harmony
Each potential of your being
With more vibrancy
Than I'll ever experience

And yet, in this repetition of recreating
Your perfection,
I have lost what made you perfect.

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