Blank Page

the slate is clean

wiped and all set to write

the page blank

where is my ink?

frozen on the stand

the heart’s invigorating

a desire

to break free from the norm

the passion loud

flows through

the blood in my hands

raindrops on my skin

licked in a spur

tears rest in peace

on petals of de’ fleur

the page flutters

inviting me

to spread myself

on its silk

and let my heat of passion

break the vow

of frozen ink.


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