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bleeds through pages, soaking black and heavy into strings of wood stretched to breaking, pressed too tight. Others are scratched into open wounds, dyeing blood reds magenta as they crust into scars.  Permanent. Names painted in defiance for the greater good.  Thoughts called into being by blues and reds, and greens, and halting greys as they spill their living guts onto pages lines with ink.  Printers’ ink, that is— different from all the other kinds. Lighter, duller, marking things no one should cross.  Making boundaries. Those inks are too cold to bleed, too stiff and flat to stain a **** thing. They refuse to sing because they are broken, full of tiny gaps and little pores.
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May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
Ink
bleeds through pages, soaking black and heavy into strings of wood stretched to breaking, pressed too tight. Others are scratched into open wounds, dyeing blood reds magenta as they crust into scars.  Permanent. Names painted in defiance for the greater good.  Thoughts called into being by blues and reds, and greens, and halting greys as they spill their living guts onto pages lines with ink.  Printers’ ink, that is— different from all the other kinds. Lighter, duller, marking things no one should cross.  Making boundaries. Those inks are too cold to bleed, too stiff and flat to stain a **** thing. They refuse to sing because they are broken, full of tiny gaps and little pores.
featherfingers
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May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
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