Title: Wet Ink
Author: thewiggins
Era/season/setting: 6ish
Rating: PG
Author’s note: I sort of wrote a sonnet, I guess? I was going to post a chapter of the fic that thenewbuzwuzz made the beautiful banner for, but I got too in my head about it. So I turned a fragment of a story in my fanfic drafts into a poem. Was that really easier? Probably not. But it’s what my brain was willing to do today.
This poem is at least an attempt at a Petrarchan sonnet. It’s from Spike’s POV, but that’s probably pretty obvious.
Wet ink, so quick to smear, pens bound to slip,
Thought and meaning lost in smudges of black.
But spoken words, they just catch me flack
They tumble and twist over my lip.
If I could, I’d close my mouth with a zip.
Each day, my mistakes repeat on playback,
So now I’m a bloody insomniac.
I know, I know, I’m not made for courtship.
But maybe, someday, I’ll say the right thing,
The thing that will make you see me, feel me.
Wrap words like a gift, give them special sheen,
Show you I’m more than a creaking bed spring.
That my heart’s the ocean, not the Dead Sea.
Till then, I’ll be your slave, and you my queen.
Originally posted at: https://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/762611.html
