You love words,

cling to them like

salvation

a tear-streaked face;

clutching each to your chest

as if you could even reach

them

hold them as

if they

could save you

as if by memorising the

recipe and flavour

of each syllable,

combine, mix, grind

a dash of salt

As if

by keeping perfect time

with the heartbeat of

Each sentence,

ba-dum, ba-dum

a steady Metro

Nome ticking

away

you could make sense,

you could

articulate the world

into perfect little

gumballs you can roll

around and chew

in your mouth

as if you could own

the world

just by loving

words as

if.

—To Anyone Who Thinks Literature is Salvation, Hephzibah Grace