The Treacherous Vellum
What when the paper cuts
Fester and bleed
Rather than sting for a brief moment only?
What when the parchment taunts you
By illuminating words
You have not yet writ?
And the pen and ink
Side with the treacherous vellum,
Scribbling emotions without your hand's command
Or even consent.
Then the words sink in
And saturate your heart
Before your mind can set barriers
What then? When betrayal seems inevitable?
What then, my love, what then?
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