Destinations: Poetry

The pen sharpened itself,
Diving into ink,
Solidifying itself as a mechasnism
moving on its own violition,

She followed its inclinations,
hesitancy swallowed by the
rush of motion,
the impulse of idea
bursting onto the once
flaccid surface of idle thought

Destinations tripped over 
themselves within the mind's 
newly minted mythologies,
fantastical heights glimpsed
in the twilight consciousness
between dream and wakefulness

And so she stopped fighting,
reliquished fine control
and rode the map of Imagination
in silence and without qualm.

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