...To find her gone
Blank like the memory
Of my fiction
Cupid's Discovery
I love a child
A newborn smile
A great cry
From a firm slap
To the supple bottom
Of my quiet words
Her cheeks dimple
But smirking chastity
Chases the dream away
I scribble over and over
White on white
As she disappears behind
A liquid corner
I spill around
To find her gone
Blank like the memory
Of my fiction
Yet smiling, dancing
Ink-wise
Flowing
To return amid airs
To attend
To await poison
To take cursive
Arrows of passion