ON THE PAGE

In the bright of the breeze -

I fall down on my knees -

The darkness within me erupts.

Your writing remembered -

On the soul you dismembered -

The writing is magic & is what I still

trust:

The pain in my eyes is beautiful

& sorrow paints the face of my

darkness.

The light of my tears is hidden

but visible glowing deep within

the essence of my spirit.

My black sweater in aura of

stormy emotion is written over

in red & white ink left by

your hands that held me & stroked

me &

TOUCHED me.

You wrote all this down &

I spoke every line

spelled every word

carved every letter

in my diarist heart.

As it is written

so shall it be.