Untainted
I wish I could reveal myself without retreat.
Some days I am the poet drawing pictures of moments with words poured out like spoonfuls of falling light. The written phrases may, or may not, be diluted by those that follow. My terrified heart often tries to press darkness into the light, to repaint the revelations and disguise them. Some days I am the poem, flowing out of a spring of crass beauty. In this stream I am revealed, exposed, stripped naked. It flows quickly...
