The canvas was blank
before it saw you.
It saw you
and your pencil
that carved me.
I remember
how dense were my locks
how deep were my eyes
how delicate were my hands.
I remember
you completed me
with a dot
on my forehead
and I remember
I was
more handsome than ever.
You called me
your treasured possession.
With you beside me
I was adored
with the lovliest of diction.
Now I wonder why
your treasured possession
is left all to itself
since
you have started
your strange voyage.
Your strange voyage
that began
without a promise
of return.
And since,
they have doodled
and scribbled
and sketched
over
your treasured possession.
The eyes are now shallow
and the hands
coarse and hairy
and the locks
thin and flimsy.
I never knew
the marvel in me
was you beside me.
And your absence
has reduced me to nothing
but a plaything
for the world.