Spark Writer
There is a beauty
A strange, transfixing beauty
In capturing the perfect word
For a feeling, or a moment
Or the collide of two people
I have seen a wonderful eloquence
Of the perfect, perfect world
Woven by threads of words,
Swirling
Dancing
Darting in circles around each other
There is something that captures you
As you read
There is a- please don't end
please don't end, please don't end
please don't end.
But then it does. And there is no room for it to ever have kept going
Because it ends when it needs to
Where it needs to
There is always going to be some of me screaming
"Where the fuck is the next section!"
But that just dulls it down.
I've learned to quench the rush of emotion and breath deeply
For a moment I can soak
In the happiness, the heartbreak
The ending of it all
And maybe the beginning?
This rush, this beautiful rush
comes only once a week or so,
So I wait in giddy anticipation, for when it will come
And I can
Plunge,
Soak,
Grasp,
Die,
Live,
Breathe,
and just
read it.