I write not for aspirations,
by Heather Craig
nor for society salutation
but because my pen moves with
the piercing whispers
of the voice submissive to my soul.
Her velvet breath confides
with the paper's mute reaction
for fears and intuition collide.
He melts her affliction
with each new single release,
He's the match that relights her solitaire dream
when drenched by the abomination of the uniformed universe....
When her lights have been disperesed,
the shadows and the wall converse
as she transforms to the obverse.
The attachment of his blank frame of lonliness
and her agonizing breath
the everlasting devotion
of spirit, esteem, and emotion...
with never the feeling of pain and overwhelm,
the only equality of this realm.
My friendship fabrication
created from thy imagination
the only completion
where soul and paper meet,
my heart's only escape from secretes.