Reading
Is like floating
On a
Word cloud.

Words wrap
Around you,
Like an angel's
Hug.

It can be
Thick,
With words that
Confuse you.

Or.

Your cloud
Can be
Thin,
With words that
You comprehend
Easily.

A book
Is a word
Cloud.

And I am
Floating.

In darkness
My world
Is alone.

I am alone.
But the flicker of
Blue, fake light
On my nightstand
Tells me otherwise.

My hand lingers
On the button
That would turn it off.
Could turn it off.

But the static is calming.

No.
Darkness sweeps over
As time stops
Momentarily.

The open curtains
Provide me with
A blanket.

A blanket of living color
Covers my ears
With no warmth
But sound

The frogs and stars
Serenade me.

In darkness
I am bathing in
Living color.