Saturday, November 28, 2020

Parchment


Suspended in all its wonder 
         The heavy dot
Spun out from the universe 
And willed itself into being 

Into time-bound reality 
Into primitive carbon vessel 
      Flawed and perfect 

The ink remembers the pen 
       The invisible hand 
That shoots comets and opens petals 

May it's stories be worth writing

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