Play on Words
I play with my words like you play with gum, pulling each vowel through my lips,
feeling the crack of a consonant on my tongue, and biting down to hold each in their proper place.
I play with words like babies play with bubbles, creating them to shine then pop with possibilities,
my wand is my pen, dipped deep into the frothy brine, to conjure up form from subconscious mystery.
Where grammar gives way to art. punctuated. by the rhythms and the
_silence between the notes.
Where language dances with intimate perception, staring back at the reader, the writer,
casting shadows of depth no picture could perceive, it's thousand words so intricately weaved.
These words are toys, not like blocks stacked in math, but like play-doh and finger paint,
the impressions made of the author in press are the dips in the clay and the prints in the paint.
Where best of all I am never alone, my reader must play
_and so far, we get along.
feeling the crack of a consonant on my tongue, and biting down to hold each in their proper place.
I play with words like babies play with bubbles, creating them to shine then pop with possibilities,
my wand is my pen, dipped deep into the frothy brine, to conjure up form from subconscious mystery.
Where grammar gives way to art. punctuated. by the rhythms and the
_silence between the notes.
Where language dances with intimate perception, staring back at the reader, the writer,
casting shadows of depth no picture could perceive, it's thousand words so intricately weaved.
These words are toys, not like blocks stacked in math, but like play-doh and finger paint,
the impressions made of the author in press are the dips in the clay and the prints in the paint.
Where best of all I am never alone, my reader must play
_and so far, we get along.
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