BLACK INK FROM MY FINGERTIPS

I catch the darkness as it drips
Like black ink from my fingertips
A feather from the white dove's wing
Has fallen down to earth

I draw the poison from my skin
The venom from the spider's sting
I can see the Milky Way
Earth bathed in milky light

Black and white, they mix again
On earth, I am the medium
I move the quill, and channeling
The words pour from my hands

They are thick like honey now
Black as pitch, they're oozing out
From my pores and from my palms
Upwells the oily gold

A feather from the white dove's wing
Has fallen down to earth again
I dip the quill into the ink
My hands take down the words

I have to draw them out, I know
In my veins, the black ink flows
It rises up from every pore
And collects in my lungs

I hold my breath as I tap in
In the black, I'm sinking in
On my tongue, they're quickening
Words waiting to be born

Once, the words would not come out
The river, sealed tight at its mouth
The upwell of the oily gold
Had clogged up every pore

The river now, it rushes me
I channel it, I let it bleed
A quill plucked from the white dove's wing
Has fallen down to earth.