How is the quantity of a feeling qualified with language?
Does love come in bunches the way flowers may, and if so, is that passé? Maybe love flocks like sheep before sleep and dreaming, or heaps up in a chest that bursts open revealing its treasure.
Anger might be a murder or a parliament of dark croaking throats with no physicality just burning and turning thought to ashy dust.
there are probably myriad answers
to one such question
i like the word panoply
poetry is the clothing for my invisibility
He wrote a new poem today
Composed after hours
There in the middle-distance
Down the street half a block
...
Following one week
It was fairly fatigued, so It spoke:
'May there be one rotation of the globe
Devoted to meals out-of-doors, including fermented grapes and manna'
...
Hello to the words on the page! When we meet it is like pictures in the mind; it is like slipping behind a mask made of smoke and speaking in the voice of a stranger; it is transformative. Thank you words, I am flabbergasted, amused, and terrified. We are trapped
...