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Ink-craft
We don’t need practice
To be dancing
Under the moonlight,
Swaying to the rhythm of
Humming breeze
When the stars are meant
To be aligned.
You are nothing
But a few lines
Penned in cursive,
Becoming alive
In my nocturne dreams
Like a firefly.
“I don’t write, I slaught”
Ink is blue poison
I cram,
'Tis time you should
Get buried between pages
And forgotten by dawn.
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3AM IN THE MORNING AND SHE'S BUSY WRITING!!!