for words which water the earth that we step on, for letters which make up the dust, for sentences which create spaces for dialogue, for silence and tension to search for your eyes searching for mine
It is not unkind of the soil to thirstily crave words, mind you, not some kind of trick that it plays to be A man of charisma, a man of charm and a woman beside him who's cautiously calm
I have a dangerous love of falling, she whispers, soft enough to hope that he hears and still, to let him evade reality and her fears. I have a vicious cycle and you're probably in it, she thinks loud enough to later use this as evidence, and still, to indulge the imagination.
for words, they water the soil of life, they oxidize carbon and expand our lungs. for fragments, they take away my breath and delude my existence, for breaths, they take away my words and my visions. for Silence: It is my truth, Even for a woman of words. Even for a woman of fervent falls