Dripstream

Book fear holds me at novel's length
Who says new page three hundred times
With a constant question companion
Unmarked by punctuations 
From ashes or smoke or fire

Burn through a tome
One word at a time
Recipes fill hard covers
My soft jacket hides 
An even softer heart

Tension is a decay rate
Shadowed by collapse
My imagination dreams 
Are profound perhaps
My work is a puddle
In a canyon profession