Favourite

He was my favourite poem –

not the smooth words printed onto a crisp, clean sheet of paper

but the messy splotches of ink, words and emotion

that painted the flawed surface of the page with an image of

iridescent colour under the black and white contrast of ink and paper.

 

While initially slow, I soon fell in love with the hidden meanings of the words,

the beauty they held and how at times

it reflected thoughts from my own mind and

its emotion resonated within my soul.

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