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ink of me.
she scrolled passed a name,
bold and black.
Woe is thee.
Cause he never looked back.
Be it the season,
bringing forth the reason.
Maybe she'll ink of him.
He scrolled passed a name,
bold and black.
Woe is thee.
Cause she never looked back.
Be it the reason,
that brought forth the season.
Maybe he'll ink of her.
Heavy is the pen,
burdened from within
drawn to defend.
bled out, in unison.
A trail,
whimsically dotted,
and passionately crossed.
Her ink, seeps through his pages.
Casing their chapters,
boldly in black.
Together they scrolled
and never looked back






© OvONique