Confessions of a writer .8

What  have  you  done  to  me?

the  pupils  of  my  eyes  dilating  crazily…

like liquid on cloth, you’ve dispersed into  my every fragment,

you pull  me  in  like  a  metal  to  a  magnet.

but  I  like  that…

I  won’t  fight  that.

I  will  let  your  words  make  love  to  my  intellect…..

until  new  ideas  are  conceived,

new  perspectives  on  life,   we’ll  breed.

A  master  of  verses….

your  lines  plant  seeds…..

of  hope,  of  love,  and  of  prosperity…….

words  that  will  carry  on,

unto  infinity.

2 thoughts on “Confessions of a writer .8

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