I was challenged by my friend, Nena, to write a tritina. This is my first one.


Ink black and bleeding onto white paper
Words want to find the lost white spaces
Black blood-ink attempts to stifle my raging voice

But inside these words I am a wanting voice
The ink finds its way back to the silent paper
My thoughts rest on the found empty spaces

In between the lines I see more spaces
I am no longer ink, but once again untamed voice
Somewhere inside me now lives the wild paper

My voice again becomes ink on paper, squeezing through the forgotten spaces

© zaji, 2016