The words that I write
On smooth, white sheets of paper,
With blue and black ink
That flows as it creates the illusion
Of a soft rhythm with a pulse
That indicates it's alive,
These words that take form
As they wish, without my permission,
In a form that is free of bonds and constraints-
That is how I have chosen to
Release the thoughts
That reside in the back of my mind,
Captured by the inability to be displayed through speech,
And desirous of being ordered to dance
In ways that the art of poetry demands.