Black fills my window,

The moon only a faint sliver

Slicing the sky like a claw violently ripping through

A colorless sailcloth.

The crackle of the television

And the faint light from my desk lamp

All fade away as I stare at the unblemished

Blank canvas.

My mind is suddenly filled with images

Of stores with shiny things and humans with glittering wings

That could never compare to you.

You are not a blank canvas.

You are the wind whispering through the trees

And the scent of lavender during summer.

You are the sun's warm tendrils enveloping me.

You are not a blank canvas.

I stare at the flowers you sent me.

The ivory petals are my blank cavas.

The green leaves are the color of your eyes.

You are not a blank canvas.

But why was the only thing you left me?