Untitled by Sierra Page
I’ve watched you
this entire time
hands gliding
across smooth, thick paper
A fresh sheet
free of the small ticks
and eraser marks
that cover your sketch pads
A new page
to hold the moldings of your imagination
pieces of your memory
Gradually smudging
in soft lines
Until
your work comes alive
And I’ve waited
anxious
the expectation
of a new living, breathing thing
conceived in your mind
just
to watch you erase it all
I sigh
and turn around
disappointed
As if all the while
The work was my own