I can build castles
with penstrokes and
as you sit in your robe
living in my castle and
being served tea on
a plate of my choice,
you won't know,
can't begin to know
that the *I*
that I write about--
Well, even *I*
am not sure of
her existence.
It is only
blackened words
against snow-white
that bring me to life.
If you cease to read me,
I may be blown away with
the next strong wind
and left to be muddied
in a nearby city's
gutters.
So, come in to my castle~
Please, make yourself
at home here~
inside of my words.
Hang your hat on the
curves of my "g"s and "J"s
and let my words in
to remind you of
some past emotion,
some forgotten feeling.
I'll bring you a pipe
and your favorite slippers,
meet you where the
candleglow
illuminates the night.
Come in,
and I'll let you in...
to stay in some
corner of your mind,
my words shelved,
ready to be dusted off
for whenever you need to
read them again.
I'm here for you, honey.
Can I call you "honey"?
I feel like I know you
