I like words
spoken or written
by and at me or you
I continue to learn their worth
to be conscious of their feel, their reach, their bleed.
their power.
and to not be embarrassed and apologise for them.
to know which to take with a bucket of salt,
some with a red balloon
throwing caution to the wind,
but keeping sight of the (Savusavu) harbour.
Ironic. and yet iconic.
I might have caught a cold, from the ice inside your soul.
and then realised, it was mine all along.
spoken or written
by and at me or you
I continue to learn their worth
to be conscious of their feel, their reach, their bleed.
their power.
and to not be embarrassed and apologise for them.
to know which to take with a bucket of salt,
some with a red balloon
throwing caution to the wind,
but keeping sight of the (Savusavu) harbour.
Ironic. and yet iconic.
I might have caught a cold, from the ice inside your soul.
and then realised, it was mine all along.
3 comments:
Beautiful.
Just. Wow.
Ahhh....words....sometimes they ask for silence in response, and in awe...
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