When Graphite Turns to Ink

ink blots

When Graphite Turns to Ink

 

second-hand memories

tick away on gossamer wings

and other time-worn things

 

on broken strings

token promises lead to 

twisted falsehoods

in the hours that tock tick

through illusionary scrapes of time  

 

In gearbox fractures

fear explodes

upon itself in minutes

the big bang whimpers sweet nothings

across the minutia of space and time

 

orange sunsets and rusty clocks

make for strange bedfellows

 

Author's Note

let it rip

Reviews

[Wyrn Tiger]

I do like this one, nice read