The Unbearable Call

She calls and calls to me she cries I hear her I hear her and for that am daring For a friend and an enemy she has become That soft kiss on my forehead The phantom curse of our passion How is it I and her have these conversations The late night chats of our sorrows The innocent depths of our dawn By midday we play tug of war I trying to chase her away And she holding tight to me We love and we cry Sobbing on each other's shoulders The ink undying Fresh with each stroke The poetry in me The poem and the poet