Nor Flowing Script


My mind is too pragmatic;
it cannot work the magic
of allusion, illusion, nor flowing script. 

When was my heart last ripped
open in love-lost-anguish or slipped 
into unexpected passion?

I am unable to refashion 
the impulsive neuronal transmissions
to create a cage of desire

or the heights to which you aspire.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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