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written

Words

They are inescapably diverting. They distract me in the most intoxicating manner imaginable; they hold me hostage like a prisoner trapped within a cage of my own making where I pace, tiger-like, undeterred by the tide of day into night and night into day, where I can spend hours surrounding myself with them without saying anything at all.

Words

They fill my heart with yearning. They spread through my mind like a waking dream, impossible to ignore and as captivating as warmth on a freezing day, and I stand enthralled by the indescribably hypnotic sight of my thoughts and dreams taking visible form, filling my mind with ever increasing tides and torrents of relentless phrases.

Words

They touch the deep precincts of my mind. They betray the hidden secrets of my heart, speaking boldly for any who will listen what it is that my spirit longs to attain, to satisfy, to provoke, and I have no more control over the inevitable prophesying than one might have over the wind, blowing where and when and how it will.

Words

Like a drug I am powerless to resist, they send me into spiraling, dizzying, abstraction where I wait, transfixed and smiling like a Cheshire Cat, unabashed in my revelry, unhindered by convention, until the wave crests and crashes.

Words

Trivial or Tantalizing, Poetic or Lurid, I hear them, see them, feel them, taste them. They send me into irrational, inexplicable fits of splendor that only I seem able to experience. And yet, when those words are spoken by You, I see a mirror, a reflection; evidence of something more than just

Words.
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