Ink.

The only time I feel alive, is when I’m writing.

Dipped in an unconscious universe,
Lowered gently into a sea to retrieve from the sea bed
A stone, a pebble- precious
or not.
Not all of us have the eye for an oyster.

But its the thrill of the dive,
The fascination of eyes wide open under blue water
The ache of awareness living under your skin
That makes all of this worthwhile.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s