Into the celestial

Inky black, again.

Those deep, deep pools.


She spilled the ink

Again.


He took the pen.

He wrote her story.


They read it aloud to each other,

Taking turns.


He told her tale.

Not how she would have told it,

But how he saw.


She let him tell it his way,

Even though it was wrong.

Because

he was so sweet.


He didn't know what he was doing.

He didn't know it was permanent ink.

He just wanted to draw a picture.

To show,

Look here-

Here's us falling apart.

And look!

Here's one to show

The depths of our passion.

And ah- here,

A favorite:

The day when

We loved each other so much,

We couldn't find the right words to express it.

Do you remember?


They told the story again,

And again,

And again.

In inky black.

Or sometimes,

on occasion,

a liquid navy blue.

And then one day,

they found they just couldn't stop.


See, how it killed us?

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