just words
I'm playing with prose in between sorting the next book... in title-less ways like this: It was something that was fiercely (personal) affective. My pouting lips twisted in a way where (withheld) words fought the air for a treasured moment of sound. Syllables I silenced with string filled ears; my diplomatic eyes rejoiced with (expression) drips of invisible recollections. I thought (you knew) the way a piano shakes the leaves off my gripped...