Poetry2

she dogs my heels
relentlessly
'look at the sky
that withering flower
see how the rain
makes love to earth
come feed me, feed me
I am hungry for words'
I am not fooled
by her seeming guilelessness
for I know what poetry
really asks of me
is the tearing open of heart
unmasking of soul
for only words
that spill forth from my truth
will sate her fathomless appetite

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