When an exhausted orb self-immolates
Tumbles towards a pale blue dot
Tired lovers, puppets of destiny
Make a wish upon the falling spark
In dying moments, may the constellations
Burn out their hapless horoscopes,
And rewrite fates of the star-crossed
An interesting poem for an interesting prompt 155 #FromOneLine
A butterfly in the classroom
Fluttering around in captivity
On books, graphs, and notes
Blue on white, a few dark strokes
Colors splattered from test tubes
Scorching winged dreams of the
Drifting desires of adolescence
You thrill me, Words
As I twirl you around
On a pencil tip
Or a blue pen nib
Then you gently lie
In exhaustion,
On reams of white
Until I pick you up
To dance on my lips
As verses and stories
Songs and mysteries
Blue Pen Strokes 