She fell, from those sacred
texts written in prayer
Such words sound naked, 
choked on tongue, exposed 
like tangled braids rest
neatly tucked, one dangling
over the other

But she’s the bait, the carrot,
the tease, Lady Poetry; 
seeps through cracks once sealed
under skin, weaves her flavor
by salt and spicy hand, pen or pencil
running savagely among the chatter, 
violently through torrent seas,
she’s the push and pull,
pain and preserve but she is free,
unrestrained in the words-

Or perhaps, her hidden voice stays calm
like the fountain or flute steeps in serenity
but the chorus is everywhere, she says!
The poetry; seasoned and sprinkled,
her petitions drawn in colors on canvas 
or could it be how sight and senses 
are stitched and sealed in the soul?
- You conjure the muse,
- You call upon the demons,
- You fight for the right to exist,
- You summon forth yourself,
on paper, in person, in protest, in purity- 
The creator inside, she just
Pushes - You - Out!

Perhaps, that-
is the only reason to escape.

-J. Circosta, Tiny Poet
Escape, ©3.12.18
#SaltandSpice #Unrestraind #HaveaVoice #Poetry #ConjuretheMuse #Escape #TinyPoet