POETRY ON MEDIUM
Ink Drinker

I feel the fire of your waves hitting me bathing in the radiation taking in your daytime energy the heat within me simmering incubating words to rising every time I start to mouth them they escape ethereal invisible to the eyes
On a table previously gone unnoticed by my spottily-sighted eyes a bottle labeled Drink Me black and viscous I recognize the liquid black gold INK
It goes down silky smooth cool to taste yet a fire builds in the belly thoughts turning to words knocking about and rioting congregating and igniting
Expelling like a cloud eating up the oxygen digesting the air between us leaving tinkling black shining letters in the wake of its heated cleansing breath sprinkling around in a symphony of fairy wings flapping in a westerly wind
Rebuilding reality in the image of our intentions I hear you cheering on my phrase-shaping tricks as the flames crawl and lick at the fingers tickling them inciting my syntactical snacking as I self-consciously swipe pronouns from my veracious lips
The shape of your mouth forming the sounds of my scorching sayings sends shivering excitement up the center of my serpentine spine curved, set in readiness for the perfect plume
Converging two black and red forms combine before my very eyes dancing dragons drawn from the stretched ink lines warping forming in the heat of mutually assured love
Letting the words flow forth in acid streams transforming the terrain of my ink-stained life relieving the burden of amber-trapped dreams
K.B. Silver
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