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.
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