Luminous Presence

In a house as silent as an underworld,
words are written in dark, quiet rooms.
Screams escaping her skull.

Words fall from blood red fingers,
tidal floods on paper that blossom blended
Fragment whispered miracle.

Drowning in a river of pulp
for the sake of one wrong word,
she chews the ends of her fingers
and bleeds ink.

Slathering emotions onto a page,
she rides her pen to heights
of muscular syllables of lust and love
and tears while watching fragments change
then disappear, as caustic words of warnings,
crackpot fringes of public opinion, appear.

She must stay awake
to the luminous presence
of obscure memories and visions,
never minding public opinion.