by pen scribble
God, as near as you see fit
in black red blue ink
in blood,
grip by fingers feeling it,
you a maestro of the universe,
uncontained by limits or
history,
write the way a woman tastes,
her lips warm and wet,
or how a ***** purrs,
velvety soft,
How love melts the icy exteriors.
On tongues of passion and verbs.
The clock ticking, imaging, it stops,
while I compose
space time into one dimension,

the paper, the ink understanding everything.