Soft charcoal lines...

Do you see my soft charcoal lines?
I was a stamp of ink, a fencepost letterbox,
I was territory - a blot on the landscape -
a shield mirror, a moat digger,
a straight line standing in a circle of steel.

I was iron, nickel, a face on a coin.

Do you see my soft charcoal lines?
I was mercury;
fluid, slippery

and untouchable;
I was encased;

measured and measuring.

Do you see my warm charcoal lines?
I was soft as silver in the moonlight
with the one I love,
I was her malleable gold.

Do you see me?
I am light, shade, a smudge...

I want you to trace
the vanishing outline you have made.

Do you see?
For I am soft -

flesh me out
and I am yours...

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