When We Write Poetry

When we write our poetry on the lines of our colored paper

There are no beginnings or endings

We draw the love with our blood

Through our veins we trace the source while racing

Our heartsThuds of thunder for lightning we make

Claps of rain fall sliding down our pane

Stamped with this postage to be delivered to you

A quiver or two up the spine of our backs


Magical with the fire we make

Stirring up the growing pains that we carry

We surrender to breathe

Thinking of words to draw on the pages that are buried beneath the bodies of emoceans

Crashing against the moon

Fluorescent glows on the silver lining underneath every controversy

Of the love we instill when we write poetry

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