Monday, December 19, 2011

The beauty of the Word.

 He asked me how to spell substantial. I spelled it underneath my breath. s-u-b-s-t-a-n-t-i-a-l.
Words are flexible, stretchy: exposed.
Words are not expensive. They do not require crafters clay, a needle and thread; they do not require heavy machinery. There is no cookbook for words.
Words create, simply by existing.
They are only as expensive as your nicest pen.
Words are what you want them to be.
They are the dirt beneath your fingernails, scattered stars across the morning sky. They are the smell of sunday roast, that moment in your head of  helplessness, right before the tears begin to fall.
Words are old. Dimmed memories, jotted down. Time eating awayat the taste, the color, the element.
Words are fresh. They hold the moment when yor lips meet his for the first time, the weight of a newborn in your arms, a leather journal at the bedside table awaiting an awakening dream.
Some words are spread like a disease, published by the thousands, stamped out in black ink to be distributed to the world, into the hands of the hungry.
Others, quietly forgotten in yellowing pages, their secrets kept..
Sometimes words are better that way.
Words Reveal, Testify. They testify of something, somebody felt, somewhere.
These words, are yours.

All I want for Christmas is a nice pair of socks.
It was never my intention. --R. Cherish

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