Writing comes up
on the blackboard of my mind.
The chalk is made up of
white doves landing
with precision,
as they shape these words,
cooing yet still-point holding.
My eyes pet them
as reading would do.
Then they are released
into flight again,
once my heart hears their words.
By this means,
there is never anything to erase.
This has become
my shape shifting literacy.
The sky is now filled
with verbosity doves,
flying my expressions
as my heart shapes itself
towards more words
lifting to the mind’s enunciation.
But now these doves
have taken to flight
to sing what there is to be said.
And so it goes,
chorus becoming caress,
sky is a sounding board embrace
as an enormity of intimacy
towards oneness begets . . .
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