ink
𐑦𐑙𐑒
popping the lid
on a violent heaven
ink
squiggles off the stick
bone ivory
annihilating into
cerulean blue
becoming sky
its aroma
intoxicating
a vibration
you can breathe
iris widens
pure magenta
cyan conjuring
with indigo
and jade
somehow eyes feel
the frequencies
down to the feet
redolent
with memory
summer’s goldenrod boyhood yellow
September’s burnt melancholy ochre
violet’s first amethyst kiss
red’s primal scarlet uproar
midnight’s longing blue quiet
forest’s calm emerald pulse
the ink by itself
was always more exciting
than any shapes they made
on paper
(accepted by Young Ravens Literary Review for their Summer 2023 issue)
𐑐𐑪𐑐𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑤𐑦𐑛
𐑪𐑯 𐑩 𐑝𐑲𐑩𐑤𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑣𐑧𐑝𐑩𐑯
𐑦𐑙𐑒
𐑕𐑒𐑢𐑦𐑜𐑩𐑤𐑟 𐑪𐑓 𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑒
𐑚𐑴𐑯 𐑲𐑝𐑩𐑮𐑦
𐑩𐑯𐑲𐑩𐑤𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑵
𐑕𐑩𐑮𐑵𐑤𐑾𐑯 𐑚𐑤𐑵
𐑚𐑩𐑒𐑳𐑥𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑒𐑲
𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑩𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩
𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑪𐑒𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙
𐑩 𐑝𐑲𐑚𐑮𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯
𐑿 𐑒𐑧𐑯 𐑚𐑮𐑰𐑞
𐑲𐑮𐑦𐑕 𐑢𐑲𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑟
𐑐𐑘𐑫𐑼 𐑥𐑩𐑡𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑩
𐑕𐑲𐑨𐑯 𐑒𐑳𐑯𐑡𐑻𐑦𐑙
𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑜𐑴
𐑯 𐑡𐑱𐑛
𐑕𐑳𐑥𐑣𐑬 𐑲𐑟 𐑓𐑰𐑤
𐑞 𐑓𐑮𐑨𐑒𐑢𐑧𐑯𐑕𐑰𐑟
𐑛𐑬𐑯 𐑑 𐑞 𐑓𐑰𐑑
𐑮𐑧𐑛𐑩𐑤𐑩𐑯𐑑
𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑥𐑧𐑥𐑩𐑮𐑦
𐑕𐑳𐑥𐑼𐑟 𐑜𐑴𐑤𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑮𐑪𐑛 𐑚𐑶𐑣𐑫𐑛 𐑘𐑧𐑤𐑴
𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑑𐑧𐑥𐑚𐑼𐑟 𐑚𐑻𐑯𐑑 𐑥𐑧𐑤𐑪𐑯𐑒𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑴𐑒𐑼
𐑝𐑲𐑩𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑕 𐑓𐑻𐑕𐑑 𐑨𐑥𐑩𐑞𐑦𐑕𐑑 𐑒𐑦𐑕
𐑮𐑧𐑛𐑟 𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑥𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑒𐑸𐑤𐑩𐑑 𐑳𐑐𐑮𐑹
𐑥𐑦𐑛𐑯𐑲𐑑𐑕 𐑤𐑪𐑙𐑦𐑙 𐑚𐑤𐑵 𐑒𐑢𐑲𐑩𐑑
𐑓𐑪𐑮𐑩𐑕𐑑𐑕 𐑒𐑭𐑥 𐑧𐑥𐑼𐑩𐑤𐑛 𐑐𐑪𐑤𐑕
𐑞 𐑦𐑙𐑒 𐑚𐑲 𐑦𐑑𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓
𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑹𐑤𐑢𐑱𐑟 𐑥𐑹 𐑧𐑒𐑕𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙
𐑞𐑧𐑯 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 𐑞𐑱 𐑥𐑱𐑛
𐑪𐑯 𐑐𐑱𐑐𐑼
