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The scrawl. Three lines come into existance, one crossing through the parallel. The tip skps and two more lines appear, perfectly right. A circle is drawn, followed by the downward arrow. The pen slashes and bends around the cut. There is another void, a gap that contains nothing and still possesses meaning. A third group is brought to life, the ink exaggerating the intersection. A ring congruent to the first follows, and is acompanied by a cup resting on its support as it reaches skyward. And all such wondrous marks to be ended with the dot. It has been described in all its sights, but this quill, the creator of such beauty, cannot capture its essence. It is only shared in thought and heart between you and me.
Thursday, 22-Dec-11 04:03:57 UTC from web-
@lightningcrash I'm no poet, bu that was awesome.
Thursday, 22-Dec-11 04:11:33 UTC from web-
Thursday, 22-Dec-11 04:12:54 UTC from web
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