Avalanche
Stormy thoughts drip on snow fields of paper, curling
into compulsive words, glinting like diamonds.
Words emboss over words saturating all language. The page darkens and the soft white snow turns black glazed ice.
I dip my finger in rays of iridescent moonshine hence and
begin to write with the ink of light.
Ivory on ebony or ebony on ivory, the poem is sacred and
shall continue. An ode to my much adored Muse.
~ Deepika
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