Smudged Ink

The story begins 
with a cold draft
interwoven in the 
soft whispers of a hand
that stutters out its 
first words.

As the blue fingers 
tighten their grip,
utterances solidify.

They harden and sharpen
as the prose is chiselled
to an effigy of thought.

Words rise from the depths
where glistening thought bubbles 
fallen between cracks ambled, aloof,
until the pinpricks of reality
burst their taut surfaces.

They form sullen puddles,
deepened by barred affection
and endless struggles;
but smudged ink is not a weakness,
it is to be treasured.

© Utsa Seth, 2020