I drench words from my pitcher

cascading droplets painting streaks

across the pages of tinted light.

Illuminating strokes from within

wing into new dimensions.

Inscribed parchment of life

skimming in fresh air breaths

drying the dampness of my soul.

Inspired ink painting horizons

slashed across realms of papyrus

smearing hues blushed and erased.

Dramatic dialogue danced

ecstatic pages of writer’s realm.

I'm so tired

of playing piggy

in this gruesome

threesome,

wondering who

you will leave

the party with.

Not the one

you came with

for sure because

your fatal charm

is that you

will never

be faithful to

anyone or anything

or even constantly

unfaithful.

For truth to tell

that would bring

some relief,

an end at least

to this bleeding

like a pig

stuck, in the

middle like

a love stuck

fool blazoned

with your roundel.