Inked Poem by Barbara Nixon

Inked

A flood of black ink deluged the page

covered it all in bitter blind rage

all her words she obliterated, from her mind she could not

they danced in crazed circles, mocking her lot.

***

As the dim light of the moon spotlighted her face

a reflection of truth on the mirror she could trace,

a silent epiphany, a quelling calm to her storm

for a love unrequited she could no longer mourn.

***

She took the page between her fingers felt the ink still wet

squeezed it hard in her fist with a passion not met

killing her love, killing her dream, killing her sin,

inked fingers on page, the death of a twin.

by Barb Nixon