- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Dance of Words
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DANCE OF WORDS
All I have are my words.
So, I pour them upon the page, like ingredients in a recipe for something that will never rise.
Subtle instances, where I rest, my fingers upon the individual letters, instruments in an orchestra that can not play.
I know, then, that paragraphs are like glass, and shattered, sharp, will not carry water.
Will not quench your thirst.
Yet they are all I have, these sentences I inscribe, these pictures I carve with an alphabet as familiar to me as night to a vampire.
What time they are read, freed from the grips of pressed paper, to swirl through a breezeless air, alive of their own accord, in motion
– a dance of words, by the pure erudition that they have become the music, and not just the notes.
- Heather Killough-Walden
