No.5 Pencil Poem by Kewayne Wadley

The pencil began to draw as it rested against his hand,
Fingers pressed tight against the yellow painted wood,
Trails of lead bled out, sketching their arms, their shoulders,
Their heads, the rest of their bodies, with a hand that moved intensely,
Tracing light, then striking dark strokes of gray lead,
Soon They began to appear, wildly, in a heavy detail that depicted that they were in love, him & her,
Standing together in the threads of their shirts, in infinite space surrounded by the imperfect lines that together made them perfect,
Her eyes were drawn shut,
As his head hid beside hers,
Nose pressed in the essence of her neck,
Only the back of his head was in view,
in comfort, embracing each other,
Caressing each other as tight as they could,
His collar ruffled with her arms firmly wrapped around the back of his neck, flipping his collar,
Her nose tucked snug against the top of his chest, next to the echo of hearts,
Hidden but close,
The end of the pencil's eraser removed trails of the pencil,
Creating streaks in their hair, creating the texture of their skin, clothes,
Bringing the picture to life,
As life like as possible,
Her arms rested on the nape of his neck,
Her bracelet hung loosely as the love they had grew tighter with
Each line that pencil provided,
Her elbows grew tighter, as his caress shrunk the back of her shirt,
Small edits sketched with the stitches of lead,
An incomplete picture made whole,
Drawn in Summer's youth