maybe one day
25 years from now
when my mind isn't so dull
and my trees aren't so bare
and my throat isn't so numb
I'll conjure up enough words
free from disfluency and stutter
that capture moments
like the ******* model 20.
Efflorescence or
Chatoyance or
Gossamer
will coin it all,
And I'll write them on parched paper
with solid gold ink and
seal it
so the words never escape me again.
But until then, let's just go with love.