Sometimes I can only bring you poetry where thoughts would otherwise lie like memories inked upon the page. Sometimes this poetry tells you all that you need to know and sometimes it unrolls like smoke as you read and reread.

I can’t tell you what kind of poetry this piece will be. I only know that I have written it and that it is unedited, uncut, unmuddied by further thought. It is as it was written. It is as it was first thought.

Writing it helps. Releasing it sets it free.

Continue reading “Incandescent”