Rilke whispers to me…sedentary body of rush…heat pushes
out from the head…throat desires chianti and kalamata
open book, eyes look…words creating doorways
empty landscape. behind her mind prisoners break free, slam gates
mossy, tendril-vined romantic escapes. the time to absorb is over
the well is full…scribble, scrawl so fast...body relaxed
making music with the fast clack, clack of her old Olympia
chair thrown back, mad dash to each bookshelf and book stash
hunting for a line to feed her burning imagination…Nag Champa
flowery smoke signals inspire ancient thought…burns down slow
slower still...ashes rot…distant voices creep closer…the black ribbon is drying
words begin to resist the page…door opens...silence is crashed
beautiful stanzas fragment…slash...love enters and permeates every room~