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~