Ink to Ashes

When my ink burns
hottest, thoughts of us scream
old wants out of my pen,


the me who loved you starts to ache
for the fiery words we howled together.
But I know you are a scorched page,

I know

happiness turns to ashes
when self-love is slaughtered
so that lust can feed.

I know

your blood has gone cold
and your lips sing poison.


for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

Realities We Make

“I’ve stolen dreamed words
out of Borges’ mouth
and written us on my skin.

In the book of us,
your words are drummed to song
I dance into ink and feels.” ~ MG

I want our wildest
words to be of you and me.
Let’s be ink and feels
only for us, write a room
of realities we make.

I’ll spell an ink-world with you, I replied to him, the letters dark and honest over my heart. Write me yours and I’ll write you mine.

And we wrote…

the wee notes…
– Beginnings often start at the end. So, yes, this is the last of Ink and Feels (for now). What happens after this, the details of how they live and love in ink, will be part of a poetry chapter book. If you’ve missed some of the poems, visit my Web Serials page.
– The 2 stanzas quoted at the beginning are part of the poem that inspired the series.
– Written for Hedgewitch’s Friday 55, and linked to the Garden.