confession

I want to scoop up your words and put them in my pockets,
run them between my fingers in idle moments
sprinkle them around me, my magic circle
my trail of crumbs back home. I come
greedily, silently and often
a thief in the night
and I take take take, and your words
shine a light or
blow things to bits or
make space inside of me that was not there before. It is
foolishness, really
to leave such treasures lying about, where anyone can see.

But I love your foolishness; the generosity
the kindness, the courage of it.



Catherine! Jess! Kate! This one's for you. Because I think you are magnificent, and because your writing makes my life better. I pretty much fail at commenting, but I really do love you.