I do not speak . . .

A golden heart that beats within

A gently undulating flame

That shimmers, sending light

To every cell and atom of my being.

In quiet dusk I close my eyes

To hear its words of wisdom

Advising when to write

And when to stop, suggesting

Words and lines. I do not speak

But listen, watching how it moves

And glows, always there, lighting up

The dark beneath my skin.

12 thoughts on “I do not speak . . .

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