The texture of satin does not speak to me
The tiles beneath my feet do.
The feel of the paper, smooth, white, capturing thoughts
Words are potent
The hand that forms them,
The mind that finds them...
All hold a promise, my promises to myself.
Looking to capture freedom on a paper.
The dark night, the bright moon ...and ...
Shades of black and white
Between the two.
The paper, the black ink and...
The lives of people in between.
Music fills my head,
For a long time, in trying to live,
I have been dead.
Dark and white...
Wrong and right...
I am setting the rules to fire
mindscapes on paper.