the ink & the page

like clouds
soft and dark

the ink pours from my veins
like blood
like rain
like wine

the love for this
this beauty
this beastie
a wild animal which hates the leash
for which I place around its neck
the words
wild on the blank page – will not be calm

I’m broken by the love
it is the morning’s tears on a dandelion’s white lashes
preventing its full beauty
it’s the stone on the paper stack
pick it up …
& let the blank pages dance in the wind

And only then will the words
the ink & the page
the hated broken love
the beastie
be tamed

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