Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Multi Media

If I could draw with words
I would sketch an empty bookshelf
Embarrassed
By its lack
I would write Wet Wet
With the thickest, blackest ink

And drench the linen, luscious
Spines of sentences
With lead letters

The wooden shelves would throb
With the weight
Of consonants

I would draw the dusty hand
Of a lonely L
That has seldom been held
The waiting
Thick
On its neck

I would fill its hollow frame
With vowels
To make it
Feel.

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