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Mohammed from the Black Pen
The Writer in me............................
It is Something about the
Pen?
When the Ink flows
through -
Fluid.
It Runs onto the Page &
Crosses the Lines so Easily
that the Joy comes
from the Writing of it.
- To hold it in your Hand
and........
the World runs out
like Water - The Black Ink
Rolls like the Persian Mohammed
His Carpet -
He of the Black Pen.
Like the Art of Itself it Runs away with My Hand,
Like a Horror Movie when
All the Hands Commit
Suicide, by Leaping
Out of the Window
&......
That's what my Pen does for Me.
The Ink Commits its Suicide
as it Runs out & over the Paper
Uses itself up.
It Uses Itself,
Completely -
& I Cannot Write on the White Paper........
There are just Lines to Stay In
With no Ink!
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