“I Hear Her Call…"

In the dark, melancholy silence of my lonely room, she beckons.

With neither word nor gesture, ... She draws me near in prescient desperation to the task at hand.

She yearns to wring from me my thoughts and emotions… Eviscerate me of my dreams, and be filled with the pulsating logorrhea within my mind.

She basks, Naked in the lamp light… Reflecting the yellow and heartless emptiness that is her. I pose no query nor seek euhemeristic rhyme nor reason for the ungodly hour.

I simply respond to her Banshee's Cry, Her Lover's Lament, and attempt to fill yet Another empty yellow page With words