Footprints of Ink
I know how to be a poet,
but will you write poetry with me?
I know the art of expression,
but I'm silent in solitude.
I have ink to bleed,
but no reason to bleed without you.
You are the meter in my internal rhyme,
without you, I'm an unwritten poem.
Let our muses dance with flamboyant flow,
leaving behind footprints of ink.
Simple Musing.
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