I miss bleeding out all over a page
The sparkle of the ink
Like a beetle’s backside
Or the soft silk from a mink
My thoughts were tied to my hands
Tangled in a telephone wire
Like lovers slumped in red little booths
Distantly feeding a fire
A flavor would roll from my tongue
And enchant the paper below
Fearless, a worded warrior would rise
They’d set the summers aglow
By the time I’d set down my pen
There’d be a new village or more
Built from my bones and my teeth
That’s what I’d be scribbling for
Today when I try to create
Tales and places like I did back then
I trip over my bones and my teeth
My pen’s run dry yet again
So maybe I’ll sit and I’ll think
I’ll try and try to make an emotion
I’ll seek out that beetle and mink
I’ll concoct a new secret potion.