Me and you,
we wrote our hearts
out in some sort of inky
sanctification of a year
smeared in fear and stained
in joy.

Oh, boy. And girl. Swirled,
grown. Moaning teens and
all the silence in between.

Are we out of ink? I think
I’ve got a song or two left,
right at the center of this
indigo sky.

Written for Poetic Asides

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2 Responses to Whew.

  1. I love this, it just speaks to me!

  2. drnurit says:

    The beauty, softness and creativity of your poems never cease to amaze me, De. You are the best!

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