Flying from the podium
And whispered into ears
Words are within us
And they control us
But they are beautiful
And i’ve come to love them
With ink and keys and broken ribbons
I’ve come to love them
And letter after letter
One thought at a time
Or sometimes all at once
Words dance on pages
like girls do on stages
And my fingers jam the keys
Leaving marks by the nail
And I breathe
The light green typewriter
seems to shake
Or maybe it’s the paper
Or the words
Maybe it is me
It was a gift from a writer
From an unrelated relative
A gift I know i’ll always have
Always use
Because weather spit out
Or spoken softly
Words are words
And they are beautiful