Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Match Ink Flow

Proof reading thoughts to check for insanity,
no red pen to highlight the clarity.
Mismatched fonts because
everything is scattered,
who dropped this box of calligraphy?
Cocktail napkins to soak up the ink and the drinks.
The drink is the coach's pep talk
and the body obliges.
Hearts tiny teeth release the clutch
 it causes on the wrist,
and full disclosure is exposed in ill-lit spaces
while wearing ill fitted clothing and trying to
scratch an itch that won't quite quit.
Feelings made concrete in tiny squiggles
and suddenly what you do not say could
mean everything and doors close
that you didn't know where opened and
ink floods pages that eyes cannot
see so that minds cannot be made up
before beds are decided to leave.
And moments are fleeting but you
pen down the ones you don't want to go.
But wickedness is the minds game
because nothing will ever match ink flow.

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