A Well Painted Passion

Do I dare disturb the universe?
T.S Eliot

A flirtation, a dalliance with a dream
The dream that haunts me in the day, and well into the night

Poison stained erised
Gushes through my veins
Hiding behind the masks and all the pen names

Weaving words to spin worlds
A symphony of magic and myth

Reclusive and elusive
Luck does not chance upon my door

As the days pass and the letters gather
Doubt seeps
And creeps into my thorny heart

Mirror, mirror on the wall or in my hand
Who is the most desperate of all in the land?

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