The Unwritten
C
Cj Heck
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My sentiments trickle in bits and pieces
to dangle like soap on a rope,
hanging around, but out of reach
till the right words come
to breathe them to life.
Precise and unexpected,
at times they fit,
chosen as I might choose
the flawless petals
of a perfect rose,
the words to be glued
in that same perfection
into absolutes, those hoped-to-be
unblemished poems
from a blemished heart and soul,
a writer’s humility
for a reader’s pleasure.
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