The Talisman

The nib’s rusted and ink’s thick as blood

I’ll cut my heart a million times

If only the ink of life would flow

Spilling itself

And enliven this deadened paper

 

I see you, I hear you, I wait

For the stars to align

For a sign

This rusted pen would then stay true

And I will draw a poem of you

 

The scarred fragility of light

Which yields

To make these words look bright

Would then instead look up to you

And these words will burn bright

 

This nib now wanders

Waxing and waning ink onto paper

Losing itself in the tight clasp of night

Loving itself

As it shines in the love of your light

 

© sid, 2017