Juxtapositional Offense to the Starry-Eyed Poet

The eye of a poet uses a triangular glass to see the unseen.
A looking glass that portrays three facets to the loyal reader:
extended metaphor, subjects, and the journey.
We vow not to allow our subjects to be cast aside.
Readers may not get the physical looking glass,
yet they can draw, paint, and dedicate themselves.
Conceptual manifestations of daily life,
words are etched, bled into the skin,
not as punishment or judgment, but like a sermon gone astray.

Somehow, we still manage to bleed words into the skin of others.
Not by ink, but by a magical font.
Words can travel to the universe above, and they can uplift our ancestral stars
or take them down from a bedroom ceiling like they are paper.
Letters are crafted out of seeing the glass half empty:
No substance to pull or pour, but maybe the glass becomes something more.
If water is our number one natural resource, aren’t humans supposed to be a resource?
Nourish the growth, development, and power it shares with us all?

The phenomenon of strangers finding offense to those who seek monumental success
fails to impress me; these people are imposters.
Steps are taken one by one through earthly vines,
until these stories of success break through the dense rainforest of doubt.

By God, she was going to find a way to traverse beyond what was possible
so she could speak to the stars, her ancestors,
sharing a colossal story that would write her name among the constellations.
She tossed and turned the stars to create new discoveries.
Stars that are dulling out shine brighter.
She dares the world below her to explore her craft:
once written in her skin, now an eternal code among the universe.