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Hold me like a feather, handle me with care,
I am someone’s messenger,
to bring to you, the sender’s mind, I am here.

Do not use a knife to rife me open
nor slit my wrists;
my skin is paper and my heart
cotton candy, yes,
but in my soul is my gist.

Be graceful with my envelope,
Like it were velvet from the start
For it carries emotions
pumped in from a tender heart.

I am composed of expressions
Thoughts and feelings drawn into language
Where each alphabet quivers under your name,
so see, don’t bring them any damage.

Read me under a lamp-shade
of moonbeamed hues
for I am made of shadows rare
Under harsh lights, they’ll drown in inky blues.

Touch my corners with gentle care
for torn ends invite ill-luck,
run your fingers softly on me,
within me are words of immeasurable depths.

Read between the lines
where ink has run over like water
dripping from a broken pail,
but caress my dots well where
I’ve aroused my words like braile.

Find the keys to your query-locks
as you feel my subtle textures,
poured from her quill, then travelled dock to dock,
I carry invaluable treasures for her will.
~ Purvi Petal 21 Sept ©2015

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