words, loose
unbound by premeditated thought
let's a rhythmic beat unfold
as pen drags across pages:
blank and white
and waiting.
inspiration comes like the waves of the sea:
lapping, sloppy, against the shore.
THIS IS WHERE I AM FREE.
an audience, captivated and anticipating
traces my prose; each line in search
of something that reveals identities and relates
to the parts that are tangled and knotted.
meaning found
in between the tick-tock of moments gone by
and the still-frames that linger even with closed eyes.
THESE ARE CALLED MEMORIES.
words, loose
bound in existence, permanently placed
where stars and galaxies share.
by: me, April 11, 2012
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leave me some sweet words, darlings!