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The Scribe and his Lover

I weep for his skills:

                the perfect crafting

                of the calligraphy


She sighed, "Forge me the seal of our love"

She sighed, "Render yourself to me"

She sighed, "I am your vellum"


I weep for her artistry


He saw the curves, the loops, the cursive strokes:

                flow smoothly from his nib



                over the scraped and pumiced skin


I weep for his ghazal


She knew the hidden rhyme of his love

She knew the pain of his task

She knew their loss


I weep for her plight:

                the perfect symmetry

                of the tughra


He saw behind the lines, beneath the flowing trace:

                a cold wind blowing from the east

                the two seas

                the two swords

                of his master's cartouche on her skin


scribecartographersultanloveloverlove poemcartouchetughraghazalcalligraphyvellum

◄ Colourblind

Conversation in a Harbour Cafe ►


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jennifer Malden

Sun 9th Dec 2018 16:20

Beautiful poem. You are not lacking the perfect crafting certainly! Really enjoyable.

Big Sal

Fri 7th Dec 2018 16:29

I don't know if many people outside of those that work with paper even know what vellum is anymore, but the entire piece was nicely sculpted. Second stanza shines as does the rest of the piece.?

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Taylor Crowshaw

Fri 7th Dec 2018 16:01

Who knew the art of calligraphy could be so sensual. Lovely poem..beautifully scribed..

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