Shards.

Shards of words
A stack of blank papers now unstacked
A trail of coffee
Traced from the machine right next
To me, I love it black
And a quill
In an open bottle of ink
My thoughts spilled on it like oil
Shards of words
Refusing to dissolve or
Come together
Shards
I lie there cursing the night
the dawn to break
For in moonlight you appear all but a ghost.

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