Words are such a strange thing.
What is in a word that gives it
How can one such thing hold
The meaning of a kiss
In its outreaching hand, just a breath
From your lips, and yet,
In the next moment, be once again
A simple word
Filled with innocent effervescence.
We wield words with abandon;
Tossing them about here and there
Giving them freely with little
Acknowledgement or even awareness of the
That they can wield.
And as always more words to follow.
G. S. Skye, 2006/2018