Blue-inked, Pinked-blu
by Jane A. Odartey
nothing’s old,
yes.
dearest dearest, Sir,
nothing’s new.
yes?
Your heart bLINK
our suffeRING.
our surrendeRING.
We loved before eyes
stung. love still in
blur. I am not without
you true. not you without
me through.
We breathe sinking
We breathe singing
slurping wordlessly
what isn’t yet iz.
cell in cell as
hand in hand as
space ≠ space.
thus think-feel-sense
mine, yOURs, same.
—
JAO
