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On yellow paper it happens
On yellow paper pens cry
And sweat and kiss the lines
On yellow paper
The pen goes frantic
Drawing lines through words we dare not even let our own eyes read
On yellow paper
It happens
The ink trails to show a trail of thought
On yellow paper the pen waits patiently in your hand
As you look to it
It's trembles with electricity of all the untied words swimming in your head and in your heart and through your arms and eyes and toes
'No body knows' you think
'What I do'
And it happens on yellow paper
That you read it back and know
You know nothing either
But that empty silence and that 60 watt lightbulb
Sometimes our expectations are betrayed by numbers
Sometimes impossible to assign rational value to him her them
Or what we feel for either
But we can count the lines
On the table
On the paper
On the paper on the table
Smooth ink smooth paper smooth thoughts...
?
Crinkled piles is what it is
If you can't say it, write it
And if you can't write it, write it anyway