You walk
through my written words
that I strew
before you
faced with
the blankness
of the next day
of the next page
I create the next word
like a stepping stone
from sentence
to sentence
keeping you alive
as I write
I take your hand
and guide you through
this forest of words
(don’t be afraid)
the sound of your footsteps
the itchy scratch of my pen
I write you alive again
make you turn
& kiss me
again...again
even if it’s only
a paper kiss
a paper kiss
the paper cut of memory.
Dreams becoming our reality...I make you alive...what a perfect expression for writers...
Not just a paper kiss, Donall. It lives in the mind and heart too. F
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
paper cuts and kisses.....and the poem flowed along the page beautifully, keeping me alive after a very busy week............ Ruthie