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The Writer
March 20, 2018
And yet you still
Replenish the vessel with toner that was contained
In a broken glass and
Your hands are bruised and you feel tears evaporating into air
Flowing like clouds with dragonfly wings
But your fingers still dance in that curvature like they did before
And they will see the voice of the contrast you created
And yet you still smile because they will see what you have sown
Left to bloom in the winter of paper white
Your hands drenched in the opaque ink of the inerasable
© Christopher M., El Paso, TX
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This article has 1 comment.
WolfWhisperer0911 BRONZE said...
on Apr. 29 2018 at 10:01 pm
@AinsleyTurnedAlex Great poem! May the best poet for the Ink It contest wins! :)
This piece is for the contest "Ink It."