Poem: Ink, Honey , or Poison

I may be angry. I may be in love. But when I write, it is ink. Til you read it, it is ink. But if you read it, it becomes either a poison or honey milk. The beholder decides the meaning of the ink, right?

Poem: INK, HONEY, or POISON

Image by Bruno from Pixabay

I want to write this
And I will
It’s there on paper
Black, and perfect
It is not ink, dear
It’s poison-
If you read it.
It’s honey and milk-
If you read it.
But…
For now, it’s ink.
For now, I think-
Letting time and distance
Grow slowly on me.
It’s still ink-
If you read it-
Probably, never.

- Ashok Subramanian © 2023

“Ink, a Drug.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Bend Sinister

Don’t you agree?

~Ashok Subramanian © 2023