To Write a Poem


You must believe in 
the capability to fall in love
with ink smeared and blotted
onto a white page,
     a Rorschach of romance.

Fall into the imagery,
   stumble down the line breaks
      like a stair case,
         maybe you will scrape your knee
and leave a little blood
embedded between blue lines
and black ink.

This paper is bruised
from confessions
I’ve thrown into it. 


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