the night-time is for writing
with her deep thick languid ease
fingers padding gentle surfaces
tap-stroking certain keys
the favoured vowels the yearning syllables
my mind speaks with slick sensing
sifting through the marionettes floating
at the mind-stage surfaces
the dolls how they dance
they speak in time, rhythm and rhyme
dangling before me
tap-tap-dancing my mind takes them in
behind them a quiet notion
becoming bolder
a night-time commotion
singing to the surface
is black ink spilled…
dramatics.
bold is the process and wild is the prowess
of yielding certain belligerence
into moulded written continuance
the shade on the axis
beckons,
to me it is out of duress speaking
this is not nonsense,
I conjure all the sense in the world
when I delve into my own subconscious.
Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Adrien Ledoux on Unsplash
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