i write

I write though I know
that I have not the right
to write.

And yet I will.

With a whistling wind
behind my back,
with the smoke
spiralling heavenwards
before my eyes
I wonder
and I wander
along pathways, new
and untouched
with all the others,
all the ones
I wish I wouldn’t
see,
or rather,
wouldn’t see me.

I imagine worlds
and I imagine people.
I imagine words
and I disappoint
some people.
I write because
I think I must
and I write what I see
all around me
and inside me.