iPoem

Write with joy.

Write with abandon, thirsty for

words and inflections, eager to please the weakness of the soul.

People say the soul gets lost in the complicated crevices of
life.

I say it gets abandoned by our daily promiscuity:

our
chores and responsibilities to the world, not the self.


I write in the present, and in my self.

Not in the third person
of narrative, but in my own voice, in the "I",

with no ghost
writer.

Why not?

A story born from within should be told (or
torn) from within.

It is always less messy.