Poetry and artistic expression,
make me feel so vulnerable.
The pseudonyms hide my blushes.
from a juxtaposed complexion pale,

Set sail in to the blank page.
Making waves on those contoured lines.
the island of design is on the horizon,
yet it changes state each time we arrive.

i’m not surprised,
bashful,
tactically sound.
the waters are calm,
but i’m anxious,
until my feet feel solid ground.