Ink

I was 12 when I discovered

that magic was at the tip

of a blue fountain pen. 

It was then that I realized

I could manipulate words

to do for me

what I did with them. 

When words tumbled out of

my little ink-stained heart,

I knew etched on it

were the notes to my own

love sound. 

And when I grew up to discover

that the only part of me

not jaded

were my words,

I knew I’d found 

something extraordinary-

-And I was spell-bound. 

~N.V.