Hit

Quickened silver flushes thru the mind.
Inspiration’s circuits close in kind.

Electricity clicks power’s flow.
Muse now coherent, think becomes know.

Mind’s misty black gathers in dark dew.
Collectible drops with inky hue.

Obsidian flows thru hands to screen.
Suddenly knowing things never seen.

Slow, the shapes of creation unfold.
Writing secrets that never were told.

Now, here it is; just one of many.
Ready to view by one & any.

Now gone is the itch of backed up whit.
Forgotten soon as signature’s writ.