I want to bathe in the feeling
I get when I read
a paragraph of raw description -
emotions laid out on paper,
the smell of ink wafting around me.
The choked-up sensation
that swells and dips
like life is tangible and textured
and delicious.
The written rain that runs down my skin
is somehow more tantalizing than the reality
I face when I open the door and see
true storms
with lightning that lives, breathes, and breaks.
I want to drink down the words
on this page
and live on blackberry ink and
anonymous thoughts.