Words.
I got stuck in words,
seduced by the beginnings,
mired in the middles,
detained by the endings.
Words
are what I call upon
to express my encounter with the world.
Early on I had lifted a charcoal pencil;
recently I bought erasable crayons
and a sketch book.
To no avail.
Words,
only words,
have kept my affection,
served me well,
as years have passed.
Words,
only words can, will be
enlisted
to record my way.
