Epiphanie Mukasano

Ink Stains

Here is mystery personified
Me learning to trust me
This concrete wall without a crack
I need to empty my mind
of all the burning thoughts that were and are
turn them into talking beings
the washing lines are waiting
my buckets remain full
the wind keeps ripping my wooden pegs
I’m breathing fire like a dragon
Pages must be stained
I hate the sight of them virgin

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