Oh, Sometimes

oh ... sometimes at the crack of dawn when storms shake the ocean of my sleep or when the sun goes down and it is dark in total silence I pick up my pen my hair a flowing river soft as a spiders web and words begin to drip like blood in my imagination I set sail on a vast ocean smooth as glass where clouds sail across the sky and seagulls call then, like a waterfall over a cliff my words fall onto white until I sit still exhausted of words then, I give them their wings and send them to fly like birds in the sky