I know the power of the written word
That’s how I got carried away
When he strung them into
This enticing
Crochet of what could be
I let those words seduce me
They say paintings in galleries
Hear the most idiotic things
I think even those who are
Deafened by evocative words
Hear the most idiotic things
they say to themselves
the right word is more potent
than the first touch
it singes you
and leaves you incapable
of settling for anything else
and when the tapestry comes apart
the colours bleed
the magic hangs limp
you go back to the words
and wonder why they
ring so hollow
how come you didn’t notice
their emptiness
why didn’t you see that they were strung in a hurry
patternless
riot of haphazard colours
only because it was meant to catch your eye
knowing that you are colour-blind
how could you let him seduce you with words
he borrowed