Write like every word matters

Like the letters are etched into your skin

Meaning is a tale left unfinished,

Revived by recitation, an incantation


The folds of my heart form lips and speak

Thoughts turn to blood, blood to words

And words create a world before unseen

Unheard, spoken into existence by a wavering voice


Growing in strength as roots spread into the earth

Mountains rise into the night

Hands made of typewriter letters reach for the skies

Climbing up, clawing the empty air


Things are birthed from whispers and hushed utterances

Are nourished by the joyful voices

Of traveling nomads and housebound grandmothers

Who fill their days with speaking, telling, narrating

These things grow old and young, as we remember and forget

But they will never die, for we are storytellers

Writing worlds into life