She reflects
with a smile:
that colors the ink
that lights this page
and guides this pen.

She reaches through the inkwell
I sink inside.
I rise again
to mark this canvas,
longing to be stained.

I Wait...

For passage through the void,
Directed by a glint
and a face
at the bottom of the Wishing Well,
Waiting amidst the deep.

I Wait...

For the invitation
to take a piece of her smile
And place it in your eyes
To light all darkened paths.
Yours.
and mine.