Sometimes words come in heated pants
pushing and thrusting their way into the world.
It is all I can do to get hands in place to
catch them wild and raw
on their way out.
Other times they stick to the inside of my skull, and
I scrape them off like barnacles.
Bleeding with effort and scalded patience as they
pry off into my desperate grasp.
However they arrive, I take them.
Every last precious mouthful.
Devouring my Soul and rebirthing it onto the page.
I would spend eternity listening
if only to hold one last word crowning
it’s way into this world.