I love
The words -- I want to immerse myself -
Drown in them. They become all I know,
They are me, the very air
I breathe, In and out, in
and out, to push, deeper,
To submerge myself, and swim, until they
Drip through my hair and into my mouth
And my lungs, until I forget the
Air and the breathing, and all I
See is the universes woven into
Worlds, the story of humanity, each word
black and white and definite -- a symbolism
Of proportions: of ink and mere paper, made
Into something beautiful, that represents no
More than every human's deepest desire - to
Be free, to see the stars, the hope of release,
The things we get in stories, the many lives
That we live, over and over, flying away alone
For 50 years. Words are no more alive than we make them.