blurred lines

Photo by ROMAN ODINTSOV on Pexels.com
under 
bare light
you should
take 
f l i g h t

yet,
change 
of mind—
you stay 
b e h i n d

tomorrow’s dream
          a written
stream
of conscious
s     e    l    f 

                        sublimely 
                                  bored
                    severely
           u n d e r 
              w h e l m e d

i want
out here
you won’t
be 
n e a r

bare light—
take flight
i want you here
come back
a g a i n

tomorrow’s dream
             a written
stream
of conscious
s     e    l    f 

all blurred
blue
lights
in fancy
d r e a m s

                         sublimely 
                                  bored
                    severely
           u n d e r 
              w h e l m e d

tomorrow’s dream
            a written
stream
of conscious
s     e    l    f 

ink tickles

Photo by Velroy Fernandes on Pexels.com
i write 
on your page
slightly tickling 
your skin 
with a
white 
f  e  a  t  h  e  r

dipping my finger
into the porcelain
inkwell—
so delicately
moist with 
i n d i g o
i n k

my soft
strokes very
lightly caress 
the most sensitive 
creases
on your 
p  a  g  e
 
i take my 
dripping finger,
full of sensuous thirst,
and autograph 
some verse bites
on your back
c  o  v  e  r

and all night long
i keep writing
free rhymes
until you 
drunkenly 
fall
a  s  l  e  e  p

no need
for more words
as smudged ink
reveals i am about
to lose a bird
of my own
f  e  a  t  h  e   r

so long,
writing lover
of mine—
here is one last
indigo ink
tickle
for your 

g o o d n i g h t
p  o  e  t  i  c
d   r   e   a   m    s