While I’m not sure why

There’s something powerful

In handwriting

Each line, each stroke

Takes its own tamber

You can see the flow of ink

Brushing with confidence

Or the wavering line

Shaking with emotion

The worlds spill off the page

Sometimes fast

And imbued with excitement

Sometimes slow

Weighed down by the weight of its meaning

I see your handwriting

the soft stokes and darkness

Of the pen

Pushing its blood into the page

You speak with excitement

You speak with calm I

Pull the paper closer

Lean forward in my chair but I

Can’t see you

Reflected in this

Hand writing

This soft looping hand

Writing

But I remember I

Remember the feeling of those

Words flowing off the page

I remember seeing you write them

But I

Can’t quite remember

Whose hand held the pen

Whose ink bleed onto page

Whose soul was speaking

Through this beautiful graceful hand

Writing Then

I look up and see the mirror reflecting

My window outside

In rainbow colors

My page outside

The view in black and white

But where am I? I

Can’t

See You, I

See

Some

Not you

Maybe I

But not You, I