Ink Poem by Whitney Jones Olson

Standing on the ink ribbon of a lunar eclipse - light dribbling under with the steady stream of carbon sap - waiting to be a darkling singularity, gently thrashing for extinguished guidance - politely disintegrating - clothing my melting youth in black, to disguise for al sun-set company the disapparition of their light - this girl, a shadow gypsy
again
between nothing blood infinite choices

i dance in my kitchen for hours on end, i drink, i smoke, i no longer pretend, to be what you want me to be.

i see every moment, its endless possibility, i have no problem with being, what i want me to be.

i love my own company, i'm excited by yours, letting everything pour in, as free as it wants to be.