Oilgraph on wooden panel  // 20" x 30"

-Private commission-

"It's twelve but not twelve
the breath between

speak and hear
pin and blood
reach and touch
God and answer

skin memory of rough sand on dirty feet
yet now in air
still to drown
widening of blue and horizon
spinning down

wait
less
time

i hold your breath
a poem boils below the skin

and you...
exhale

twelve
touch
poem
drown"

-Private commission-