When he wrote, the flowing ink
was dark and expansive,
more so than the depths
of the unobserved universe.
But when she wrote, the flowing ink
was shining and restrained,
silver pinpoints of worded stars,
the illuminated crevices
of the unexplored.
Their works touched
only each other,
two poets tucked away
behind it all,
inspiring the most fantastical
of imaginations.
©Lilly S.
6.26.14
:)
YOU ARE READING
Drowsy
PoetryThe Sleep Trilogy. Book one: Drowsy (complete), Book two: Catharsis (ongoing), are both collected here. About sleepy feelings, sharp moments.
