I like words.

I mean not only in meaning.

The phonetic sound is an instrument. It creates an other meaning; a new, almost intuitive meaning combined with its original nomenclature. Then there are two potentially diverse yet synonymous bodies assigned to a single word.

So, I build in late night poetry, and basically a ways back on Tumblr this lady ruminated on how the deepest thing she ever wrote was with word magnets; also werewolves were involved. Here’s a link to it, and from the moment its lycanthrope entanglement nestled dank-ly between my brain lobes I deeply, secretly yearned that one day I too would write the profoundest thing I’ve ever written with word magnets.

Perhaps this is that:

Text translation:

I burn

Faithful in delirious

slow but soft in silent trust

linger still the sacred moon of pale familiar after rust

of Frantic born

but never lost

of song

devoured from rippled dust

we must

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