word struggles and pushes through layers in a cortex. word fights to gain meaning, dragging nuance, context and entendre. word leaves a crumb trail in its flouncing, disruptive wake.
But lo, a word materializes not ex nihilo. A word nucleates from the desire to convey, to paint with a brush upon the mind. Borne into being by prosaic utility or by passion or by swelling emotion, it fills its proper place, punctuates stillness and noise, soars above towering trees.
Tossed aloft on the wings of a breath, a word fights with the air like a fledgling, its purpose yet uncertain.
Some to savor, sever.
words wash from the loquacious, drop like mics from the mouths of grumpy cavemen. Yawp!
verse thrills and spills forth, a broken dam of liberated words upon a parchment gorge.
Let's flood some plains.
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