Pen Portrait

Smudged with thumb prints, bleeding through pages, the subtle  frost effect of feathering.  I write in pen for its’ mess. Poems scrawled on the backs of letters, drafted and discarded.  A penned word floods and collapses  into the page, sinks deep and appears  a shadow when the page is turned.  As I bring you onto paper you’re obliterated into the rush. I catch you, momentary, in glimpses. Then the ink dries, and you’re gone into something new.