The dark shadows maneuver
Like spiders under
Your frantic hands woken
Nervous when the girl screams.
Smoothing the wrinkled edges,
Checking they meet the corners meant
Spilling clumsy and fur-trapped
Soaking spent ink.
There is sweat on both our brows,
Which you saw and saw to.
And all this pains taking work
Swept dry over the smooth papers,
Ignored in shapes portending
Return after return,
But I called him Adam
Just to watch you lose sleep.