The first line you are reading.
You wonder what is next.
The third line you are seeding. You load an empty text.
The blank you find exciting.
You connect a few dots.
The space you find inviting. You tie up all the slots.
The image you are dealing.
You view a sketchy scene.
The passion you are feeling. You know it sight unseen.
The secret you are sharing.
You show a buried place.
The riddle you are baring. You vent a hazy trace.
The content you are giving.
You lift a stealthy veil.
The substance you are living. You craft a private tale.
The poem is a fine stencil.
You fill in the template.
This rhyme is the utensil. You use to contemplate
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