We sit on the floor,
like two black cats,
passing paper back and forth,
to write cleverness on.
Your words fill mine over
with blood-satin truth,
with a mission,
two poets,
and paper,
is Heaven.

34 thoughts on “vision

  1. And so, you’ve shot down another childhood article of faith. It seems black cats don’t bring bad luck after all. I can’t afford to keep getting more mature like this. I’m already a geezer.

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