This is one of my Inktober 2022 favorites and it started as just a few marks on paper. I had no idea where it was going and I let the page and the pen guide me. Step by step. Left that pesky inner critic behind and the imposter syndrome crier in the drawer. Let this being and her words evolve with each stroke of the pen and then, she said, I need a poem.
Smelling the flowers inmid-October when itsunseasonably warm, islike licking an ice cubeafter it's melted.
