Submitted by Nicholas Catron
Why must I bleed ink from these fingers?
As if my shadow demands relief.
Let drip that, which, comes from the ether,
and succumb to the lodestone of belief.
On the other side of this mirror,
I see myself through a stranger’s eyes.
Yet, understanding could never be clearer,
than when I sink deep, in blank skies.
Photo Credit: Jason – JMW Turner