Veil, vellum, luminous

such words may bloom in us

insight, a needful light

to burn throughout this night.

Beneath my escritoire

and the candlelit noir,

shadows darken, bleeding

like these words, quill needing

to carve shadowy ink

to trace the things I think,

scrawling truth with such lies

as revealed with veiled eyes;

to dream awake what is within

dark and light, black ink on calfskin.

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