ink well

the ink
of you has
run from my lips,
spilled upon
the floor,
your footprints
are everywhere,
my hands
are covered in
it. my skin
stained, blotched
wet with
the blue of you.
i've dipped
my pen deep
into that dark
well, but
it's tapped dry,
and these words
and desire to
write more
are fading
right before
my tired eyes.