Exited

Conclusions
Drawing them
An art that sure don’t care
An intellect? An artist?
Mess-maker? Long-jumper?
Languish in the mire, undecided

Conclusions
Feeling them
Hold an evanescent breath
Continue to stand and applaud
Hoping to prompt an encore
From a stage that’s gone dark

The Book and I

Name what it’s called when you cannot help but

Address each and every creature and the

City of emotions that washes over you, leaving you in a

State of awe? And, for those who feel

Zip? What do you call them?