Of whirlwinds and words
The way they drop tantalizingly out of reach
Or feather your cheeks lingering as they pass…
How they storm the bastion of close held secrets
Ferreting out strands of stray raw ones
So that the cold and hot, both hurt the exposed, worn nerve
Like a recurring toothache. One you cannot do anything about.
And yet again they become the salve.
Cocoon you in a verse, a story
Staying close till at least the scabs form.
I drink words this morning.
#magicalmornings MM#251 1 Feb 15
#cheatpost 🙂 #magicalmornings … More in the coming days!
#Day2 of #FebruaryFlows a part of #RamblingsinFebruary 🙂