'Word'ict

On April 13, 2009


You are just a word.
And in a regular sort of magic,
in a daily round of musical chairs,
you meet in symphony,
and marry into an idea.

You are just an idea,
You romp under my cells,
you skip around my eyeballs
shoot through my lips,
and you soar over my skull,
and smash me against these keys.
When you are all done,
I fold you into steadiness
and sober you into a story.

You are just a story,
sometimes you sit under storms,
sometimes you come down with the rain,
sometimes the sun shines behind your End
and sends me to slumber of easy illusion.

In my easy illusion,
Words fetch me flowers,
Sentences get me more,
And I could fall in the trap,
more words,
yet more.

You are just a word,
Some orphaned idea,
Or a roving story.

But can I hug you to sleep?