there is a light under the ocean
i had to read the first page of 'one hundred years of solitude' three times
there is nothing contrived about it, it dances into your mind like the words of a friend, it is joy
at some times, in some seasons, words come. welcome visitors.
they fly in, mysterious birds, i examine their feathers: black, iridescent
searching for messages
i struggle to please them, to make them comfortable
but they won't stay, in spring they fly off to find colder hearts
there is nothing contrived about it, it dances into your mind like the words of a friend, it is joy
at some times, in some seasons, words come. welcome visitors.
they fly in, mysterious birds, i examine their feathers: black, iridescent
searching for messages
i struggle to please them, to make them comfortable
but they won't stay, in spring they fly off to find colder hearts