Ink

Alberto-Seveso4Not everyone can be “Ink,” your ink. But everyone can be a paper, written by someone’s ink. Can’t be erased, clearly. And now sadly I’m the paper.

Ink, my ink always deep deep black, black enough like a midnight. Far enough from the sun.

But this ink is different from the ink which always write on me. This ink still on afternoon, but black enough more than a midnight.

Dot, just a simple little dot. Written on the corner.

Not even a word, not even a line. But the dot is like everything. It’s just one single dot on the corner of paper, but the dot make the paper full, not spreading but just make it full.

The paper can’t be written anymore, and the dot can’t be erased. But where is the ink? That ink? Just gone. No more dots, lines, and what I wish can be written, a word, a sentence, a full story.

It’s just gone.

Advertisements

Published by

nadhirulmaghfiroh

Hi, I'm me. Who am I? Read me. :P

4 thoughts on “Ink”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s