The smell of pain, taste of a sunbeam
color of rain, sound of a dream
echoes of rhyme cut shards of time
Can you touch a bell\'s chime?
When a yolk becomes the sun
infinity to zero power becomes one
Poetry\'s power senses no fences
Born from mind\'s womb, words lost in menses
bloody deliverance of Egyptian ren
Drops fall from a bleeding pen
Conceived to nurse on the nipples of thought
Here\'s a poem begot