Ink perfume

Silvery eagles
engraved on each side

of a hollow cube, with an open top.

One gold-coated fountain pen,
half a dozen markers, a dropper,
few hunchbacked refills,
crammed within.

Tonight, a new moon
poured over
my writing desk,

the pen holder
turned to a bouquet.

Scent of inks
lured honeybees

they helped me harmonize
the alphabets.

When this perfume will lighten,

I shall form
pintsized paper boats
out of my poesy

and watch them drift