These are not the right words
Write words
These are just approximations
These are consignment store words
Worn by others and cast away
A little threadbare and faded
The words I’d like to use don’t exist
I need to cut new cloth and stitch them together
But the closest thing to an atelier in my mind
Is memory
So I take the easy way and use these indicators
To proxy my feelings and perceptions
Instead of inventing new words
New language
To transmit the feelings that flow through and over me
Or the look in your eyes when we’re nose to nose
A blink away from eternity
I can’t capture a sunset or a surprise
Not that I’d want the responsibility of taking prisoners
I prefer wild freedoms to careful domesticity
So I use wrong words for write reasons
Approximations of shadows rounded up or down
Calculated words that hold a caricature of truth
Approximations of what I’d like to say
David Trudel © 2013
Love this, David.
Thanks my friend.