The Book
The door opened
I heard you breath
I am caught in a vision
Tender sweet pauses
Touched by words not pictures
No naked bodies
Trances of an incessant dance
Screaming discharged
Forgotten or lost
Poetic phrases articulate
Thoughts converging
Lines link my love
Arms stretching
Fingers across
The empty page
Waiting for embossing
Giving structure
To a flat surface
Feeling the empty
Silken page
The door is closed
My book complete, why do we cry?
