Ink
Thin tip
gliding
along the starched paper
looping
curving
ink
staining the page,
a flow of creativity
as pitch-black
as the sunless
corners of a deep
cavern.
Ink
filling an immense lake
the perfect round
and smooth rock
skipping
floating
and tapping
the opaque water,
inky ripples rolling
to all corners.
Below the surface
a tentacled creature
breathes in through
fleshy gills
and pushes the air out,
creating fastly
disintegrating
bubbles
that catapult it
backward.
The flat rock
falls by this
iridescent being
and both are
immersed
in a dark cloud of
ink.