A Poetic Waltz

Today, I danced with poetry and she was divine.


Sleeping While Awake

Maybe there is a bed for dreamers
To tuck their thoughts into
At night.

Is when you unwind the thread
Of thoughts
That whirl and envelope you
Like a million stinging bees.

Are much like the brain:
Drumming, humming, churning.

Churning up swirls of dreams.



Compelled by parchment-paper,
Enthralled by a draft, a sentence,
A comma –

Typing you out
Syllable after syllable
Reading you out-loud like an endearing book.

You form my syntax,
My expression.

You are the novel I love to read.


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