Pen.
She picks it up
to write about her own existence.

Paper
takes the wrath.
She digs grooves in the grain.
Drags touchable valleys.

Line
after line after line,
she unleashes it,
tames it and puts it to words.

Control.
She feels it again
through her own perfect stanzas
on tear-dappled paper.

Reflection.
Her work is created.
She re-reads her life,
still-frozen on paper.

06/19/2003

Posted on 06/19/2003
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