Thinking Of A Change
My writing could be a stretched string
some strokes of black on white that others
have to decipher.
But I'll take a chance write words
that pull souls like rafts toward shore
words that life eyelids and stagger
lovers who swerve and slide
down the slope of those they love.
Words that have affairs with other words
grow gravid with illicit seed
bear new thoughts with primal screams.
Write raw like you do sometimes in a row
with one you love taking the chance
that nakedness is its own beauty
if it can just be seen.