This poem was written using words from Read Write Word prompt #11. Enjoy.
-Nicole
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You set a book to my ribs.
Night after night I unclasp it
at the mirror’s edge
alphabets flicker and soar.
Write in the light
of all the languages
you know the earth contains,
you murmur in my ear.
This is pure transport.
– Meena Alexander
He reads lines. He reads lines pressed into
his heart from a book pressed into his chest,
the pages filled with magic molded with his
bare hands from tumbling, lucid, luscious words
a long time ago. His book, his lines – but he’d
lost his words when they tumbled out to sea.
He had chased them down, but they had looked back,
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