Words, Words
Words, words
itching to get on a page.
All calling me,
taunting me,
tempting me...
The words ebb on my desk,
Like the tide of the lake at evening
The black words
are translucent, surging, swelling,
undulating waves
excited with energy.
Gathering, falling, jumping, dripping,
and waiting,
until they are finally
poured
onto
the
page.
A random thing I came up with in the midde of english class.
