The Poet considers incongruity
of paper versus pen
both have parity
dependent on the truth
& observed from nearness of skin
human; places often travelled
inside the poet's mind
treasures, trinkets, and triumphs to be found
in boxes
in jars
in the lofty spaces-
[is that heaven, she asks?]
- She writes of hope; health
& cliched happiness
of regret,
when the ink spooled from a plea
to another, such as she
becomes her fingers
becomes her hand
becomes her arm-
synaptic sparks invade a restless reflex
her mind cascades with pure light
What is this flagellant child that lives in the poet?
wounds open to beauty and pain
the true aspersion of a moment
uttered from soft lips
a contradiction of what should be written
and what should be spoken- out-loud from mountains
valleys of riverdeep sex
shattered orgasms speak in languages forgotten
by man & beast
the curve of hip and thigh
divide to the eye of him
She wept once;
when reading Russian translated poetry
asphyxiated illusions of love and hope
screwed on the floor
paper
paper
scissors
& stone
The poet climbs the stairs
unlocks the bedroom door
lays on the bed
& wonders why
the ink stains her hands so
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
kat
..... yes .... you know me ... yes you do
... 
... thank you Stefi
