Poetic Eye

 

Maybe the
dotting of her i’s with a heart
or the crossing of her t’s with a curve
sparkle your poetic eye.

What about my words?

I open my mind,
tilt over and let the ink drip out;
Ink blots on the page, praying
for me to give it new meaning.

I direct it into margin as
imagery overflows through its veins,
spilling through open pours.

Her words so flowy, curvy
appealing to your aesthetic
it’s near perfection,
like you said.

What about mine?