Wax Thoughts

Image

I keep trying to ease

the restlessness

with meticulous movements

of hands,

thread needled

and pulled.

But words are

gnawing at my insides.

I can feel them

in my nerve endings

and I put down the hoop for the Pen. 

 

I am insatiable.

Or the words are.

They devastate me

until I put them to page.

Salinger called it

the fire between the words.

 

I’m burning.

But I feel like wax.

 

More often than not,

I find myself

huddled

in my small corner of

the universe

melting onto paper,

dog-earred and scribbled.

I am writing myself into

completeness—

 

I may never be complete

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