becoming

i write of strange places

i write of foul deeds

i write of stray wants

desires and needs

the real the imagined

the best not yet said

ethereal moments

that present in my head

i write of pale yearnings

i write of unrequited desires

i write of flames cool and warm

as i gently fan the fires

the confusion illusion

fat and frequently fed

will burst if not tended

will bruise if not bled

i write of hate in our hearts

i write of love in our eyes

i write of angry voices

and contented sighs

fragmented images

become thoughts

and then the words

lend themselves

to the sentence

the sentence in time

may eventually rhyme

but not always