You tell me to escape

And inform me it’s ok

To bare it all

And confess

Detecting the next class

Of intuition is proper

Hanging on my words

And completing my next sentence

Dares to take me

And declares to make me

Into prospering

A language within

And tempts the brilliance

Of years

Sauntering through the wind

Dances my feet and hands

To a beat only I can hear.

In every way

 my words meet the page


Posted by in Poetry