In red ink (two).

"You blinked
your eyes,
I opened
and closed
my mouth.

My words
were falling
but not
into my mouth.
My friends — 
they were,
failing me.
My tongue
has always
rejoiced at
the creation
of them.

But tonight,
my mouth
daren't
give my thoughts
into life.

And you
blinked,
again.
Patiently,
as you always
were.
And that night,
I started
writing poetry."

_

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