for love,

and in love

I dwell in the

chambers of the heart. . .

the penthouse w skylight,

rooftop terrace,

and basement under


in these

for stories

I keep the

love letters of a life

–some tied with satin bow

–some written in blood

–some love’s opposite and

all of them verbose.

Papered walls

in vital rooms,

I pump them out

to exist!

prose not so much graffiti

as it is script

–dictated by Muse

it’s curious he

flubs lines


without him

–there is no


About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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