Birth of Words

Words, expressions and phrases that I like…images I lust after and associations I can go on and on with…

Inkpot. Inkpot. Do you like the sound of inkpot? Nothing, just a plain, simple Inkpot that contains deep and dark black Ink. What would happen if Ink was spilled? It would leave a Stain? Really? Says,  Shadow. Satin raises an eyebrow. Typical. Dried Rose stares emptily into space from the porcelain vase. Shadow shifted again, this time closer to the bed. Candle glowed on. Wax oozed out like an ejaculation and dripped silently on the mahogany table. Black Lace was in ecstasy. Stain was getting darker now and suddenly Feather plunged headlong into Ink. Smoke spun around in circles. Dried Rose was suddenly wet. Candle flickered with Joy. Ink spattered on Paper. Paper was cut into half with Words. Words formed a Picture. Picture spoke a thousand words. And the cycle went on.


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