THE POETESS


Bleeding ink of emotions
spatters of insanity,
spatters of creativity.
Bleed dear love, let
thy emotions consume
and flow elegantly.
Truth of words the
intimate unveiling,
a prostitution of thy soul;
at times a celibacy, a
needed respite a gaping hole.
Raped of emotions, bled dry,
comatosed, emptied of
emotions. Ink of the heart
no longer a need there be,
sunset whispperings,
sunset dreams abed they be.
Recovery of import there be.
©PSA 30/4/22
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