Don’t blame,

please don’t blame me

if I cheat on you

with paper and ink.

Because you’re my paper,

you’re my ink and my imagination,

all that a writer needs.

But sometimes this poor

little scribbler has

the craving for tracing

her thoughts in lines and paragraphs,

there’s no harm after all.

I always dream to be in your arms,

but I can’t surely hug paper and ink.