All my school years, I’ve

Filled up sheets with words and

Analyses, and stories of cities with

Grey skies and empty houses, and

I’ve finished cartridges of ink, while

Scribbling all I could think of, and

Exhausting my hand, until it

Learnt the strokes of the alphabet by


But today, when I got a blank sheet of

Paper to write about myself, I

Left spaces blank for you to imagine,

And I let the edges of print fade into

Nothingness, and I let the ink

Rest in my fountain pen, because

It’s the contrasts of white that

Make letters shine through.



3 thoughts on “Margins

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