Ink

All my life is lived within paper
Paper envelopes I adore,
My saliva thickens as that golden white paper glistens,
I seal as if hammer and hot steel ferment its gaze,

Hard a strike
Embers of haze,
Smoke mixing
Such weather to graze,

Surfaces wrinkle my coldness deceives
For I am wrapped within paper,
Wrinkled paper I receive
Wrinkled paper I write,
For my words of hearts
Are covered within ink,

Ink drips staining this page
An imprint,
My mind or heart…
Journey as you will,
The destination is that of will
For these words I do not verbally communicate,
My mind is not of social grace,

I write them down for any to embrace,
So that maybe one day, you will see my face.

All my life is lived within paper
Paper you adore,
You read me now
Careful not to move your hand so swift,
For a paper cut you risk,

You scuff my paper
Cheapening my life,
Closer to death, for heaven I may not write,
For heaven is my paper
Paper I ascend,
Reality or imagination
Which is to bend?

You read me now
An imprint endured,
You read me now
Forever or more,

These words are to make you think,
So I place them in ink,
In circles I write…paper and ink,
For my tricks and games
Lead to no path,
For I put them there
Just so I can laugh.

Ink is my future
Paper is my past,
Together they go hand in hand,
Unless a keyboard I grasp.

Author:  Alexander Rason


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