I would draw you, but you’ve been drawn enough.
And I would then be one among many,
My feeble effort a footnote in the book of tribute to you.
What gift I can give
Will be drawn in the words I summon from the tip of my pen.
And even then, I will hide away my offerings
Like EBB hiding from FLOW, fearful,
Lest your genius be unmoved
By my lack thereof.