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Ink Eels

I love the way this ink shines on the paper
like eels I have placed very still
and even after it dries
they lie forever still
in precise, spiky condensions
of thought made black on white
like eels in a bed of snow.

This is a unique pen
a fountain of eels
and a conveyor of thought
that when lying on paper
even without this meaning we read
is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

This is a fascination among my neurons
for the clean stark precision
this fountain of eels can afford and apply
a purveyor of meaning
that embellishes it

with clean shining lines across the smooth
expanse of an untouched
notebook. I love the little dents
and furrows the eels make

as they melt into the snow.
Precision means nowhere to go
except my own control

enough to tame a bed of eels.
My neurons all fire

upon sight of the shine in the snow.

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