I serve my pen to feed my flesh and my soul extract honey from the alphabets br I come alive and true, when I write br I have no mirror, no dressing room, no camera, br I know no shame br I wait for no apologies br I skip commas, apostrophes, and I sure ignore exclamation marks br I love me in that place of no rules br my heart an ocean filled with word recipes br And me, wow! the master chef cooking a-b-c-d br as the aroma of words whistling in my kitchen of thoughts br my pen is chopping, peeling, sautéing, basting, frying, br every loss, every disappointment, every fear, every love br and serve as an ink to my pain.