stuck on words like lips
stick to tongues tied in
kisses, thoughts form and
fumble down the page
turned into poetic ink
blot tests: do you see
the naked girl in the verse
or the flaming moon
of universal emotion?
this constant motion of
penning page after page
propagates leaf litter
bound and tied, it goes
its own way like wild
horses in my head,
herding thought-feelings
in pens of ink-stained
fingers, lingering scent
of rain falls on my heart
broken open, bleeding
what i have to give, every
breath till death do me part
of the way to eternity.
i hear Trane a comin'
blowing sadness away
note by note.
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