A Dragon’s Artistry

He sat two steps below her
right on his side, his burnt
canvas laid. He took small
breaths to let them out quietly
between his two rough palms.

He was told it was art what he
made; his proficiency But she
could not accept what he
offered her. “It’s ugly” she said,
“but it’s my love” he thought.

She watched him from behind;
bent to his own lap. His ragged
fingers trail on a white canvas,
trying to create a masterpiece
she may consider to accept.

“If fire wont set her love for me..”