I never had to pay for words
yet how much my words have cost me
.
There is (there seems to be):
.
Experience.
.
I am insufficiently prepared
for it.
[how each beauty hurts so much in joy]
I am.
.
Ever unprepared:
.
Experiencing –
.
always sourced with outside
and ever without sides,
filled up, as is.
.
This is
.
Differing to ‘I am’
An other
Any
other
.
All thens
and equaling nows
complete without –
.
the wolf howls
bear bellows
in woods –
.
my lingering past –
.
with out.
.
somehow
I never learned what words are for
so
I begin
.
Again
almost
Would dress well in simple piano, like Cage’s landscapes, I think.
Yet were we prepared for the cost…were our coffers stuffed with the wealth to give for our words, readily and freely…then would we really understand the worth of our words? Would we feel the cuts they leave beneath our skins?