Writing

[jadielue]

I take on the persona of another era, world, and person.
I take on their organs - their mortal luggage. I pound them
in ear-splitting succession against the walls until the veins
of their now dust-bound bodies bloom and burst on the
sheets of blank and empty pages. Then, I fall comfortably
into place and write them, stay there, until all that's left is.

[billy]

excellent.
i like the idea of dust bound bodies blooming
it's like giving something a second life
i also like the way the poem ends and cycle continues (i surmise)
thanks for the read.

[jadielue]

Thank you for liking it, it was a nice change to talk a little about my craft, I suppose you could say.