Looming figures in dark slanting shapes.

Tightly curled hoops with tails that wag 

by strokes of exclamation - others wearily traipse.

Leisurely dangling curves that swing, or gently sag.

Your writing knows not the constraints of line -

a faint blue ridge that harshly marks the page -

but dances erratically in scribbles so fine,

and leaves printed word in jealous rage.

The End

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