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Henry And Anne
Cracked quill dips.
Ink wet.
Shiny, smells of oil.
Down it plunges, to death.
Sticky like a dragon's breath.
Scratch upon the yellow parchment.
Starchy, stiff and heavy.
Brown stains spatter.
Grains of sand absorb and scatter.
A candle flame flutters,
smoke spirals.
Wax drips,
the seal is spun.
The end has begun.
The name is set.
Checkmate.
It is done.
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