Opposites Attract

Fascination drips through me, drips
Drips
Drips onto the
White, unblemished paper like a
Trickle of feeling, like a
Small stream of red-stained tears, it is
Pure, it is
Eager for my
Touch, eager to be
Molded into
Something it is not – it
Knows that I am
Especially good at that; at
Making what is not into being, at
Changing what I see to what I
Wish to or,
More often, into
What I pray I will not; this
Wholesome, uncomplicated, incomplex piece of
Factory-molded tree is
Awaiting me. You remember – they said
Opposites attract,
Didn't they?