April 13

Does no one else glide the tips of their fingers over sturdy bound books
with empty waiting pages
no lines please
but grain
to hold the ink from bits of escaping thought
     like a net catching one fly off the flock.

I have sounds and words
but am deaf and blind to them
most times
I see that paper and itch for my pen
to sit and breathe
and let the words roll out

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