Whiting out the Black

penning gold

I revised my work,

biting nails, here,

poking “i’s” out—

there

un’ringing hands,

and buzzing ears

–how you know they whisper—

bided time and

read penned lines

with feeling,

deleting in between

–almost 2 years–

(or is it almost 20?)

of tears, ink, and coldest

sweat–

since it added little

to the story.

 

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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