Crafted with words that shout

those who whisper and giggle

I wouldn’t contain words

mass produced like “love”

For consumers to throw around like

America’s favorite pastime

It would have passionate letters

creating exotic syllables

That roll off the tongue

like your soft kiss

A language binding us

like a sewn spine of a book

The kind you read front to back

a heart ache at the completion

A longing for more words

to be read repeatedly

I wish for ancient words

those who rasp of eternity

The pages would smell of your cologne

comforting as your embrace

The origins are unknown

pronounced like your sleep heavy voice

Used to speak of love in foreign ways

tapping into our unique sensibilities

I would wear away at the spine

soften its hard edges

Gentle hands highlight

underline

Squeeze words into margins

already bursting