I cling to words,
collect them, pile them,
scrounge them from the rubbish.
I cannot let them go -
yours, mine, the world's -
Every one born of a perilous, toil-filled journey
along spark-ignited neurons
through the larynx off the tongue into air,
through the sinews touching fingers tapping keys
falling into the black hole of the machine and
Coming out the other side to rest on the page.
Earthlings, our world overflows with words!
We cringe as we craft them, battling to build,
struggling to sculpt, stringing syllables like beads.
We feed one another on their milk.
We weave them into strong ropes to rescue
or to hang.
How can I bear to throw away a single one unread?
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