POEM: INK INTENTsteemCreated with Sketch.

in poem •  19 days ago

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This is how I know
these pages write themselves
no sooner than they are turned
the blank space covets ink

The smooth stroke of a pen
mirrors the inner mind
and the chaos of the day
lines into constellation twine

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You know you have entered
love's house when she can
sit by you on the couch

(yes, just sit
with her presence filling every space
her glance unhinges your rib
cage)

You two talk, but mostly sit
still as an empty nest
or an ink stained quill

Even when she shouts
I know the force behind her words
is her just saying that she's mad
for the moment

Despite what I've heard
she is love and she desires
for higher better truer things

She is love and curse words
show she reaches to harp strings
to foment

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I wondered how the crow
knew the winter would kill
the squirrel that crossed the road
how it arrived for a stomach's fill

The moves it makes straddled
to earth mirrors the moon
and waves of birds also arrive
to tell us spring is coming soon.


Image Lineage: https://ganbreeder.app/lineage?k=08b21c801d07ea2dd83a9e8f

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