I'm A Wordless Poet
This evening I am a wordless poet. I thought to write a poem for you, but I lost all language. I tried to write this out with pen and paper, one of my typewriters, computer, nothing. What is the good of a poet without words? I guess I end up just being a woman who loves you. I think that it just has to be this way. You are only meant to be captured in stone, or etchings in stained glass. I don't have the hands to create such things, I can't even write words this evening for you. However, I do have the body you could come to, if you needed warmth and pleasure. I will have the words to whisper in your ear low, like a quiet prayer to the sky. So I've given up writing a poem to you. There is just no words.