Poetry

Black

Black is
the color of ink
in my veins
cut
black blood
splashes words in
obsidian rain
from ripples form
galaxies
life
dripping from pen tips
and ink cartridges
the soul retelling
dreams and past lives
the words
a portal
to worlds
unexplored.

Take my hand.

Why do you fear
the darkness over
the light?
Erased,
the blank page,
the nothing . . .

 

 

 

the white.

 

 

 

 

written 06.23.18

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