Ink
I have a need for words
They fill up the empty spaces
The voids and the curves
They course through my veins
Like black blood
Pervading my dreams
Igniting my skin
I crave each one
This bittersweet taste of ink
An absinthe
I choose to drink
Indelibly wrought
Marking my soul
With words that make me whole
Words: ©2018LCR
Images: CCO
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi140kbXPtP-Tduhe8VRWhzk7AZQGtd2Nro6GAcGqTzBoqQKnuIyPgK58pExE2iHRdtCP3vLFWEHXwol7JcrTFG8HqJ2WUFa2Hg3pXhS7KIvFHYB0VUGT9jMsOmA6PUwmxbA31R7uqhyrn2/s640/quill-pen-2431674_1280.jpg.jpg)
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