the breaking in of the gifts

a pristine page
unwrapped and untouched
ready to be pounced upon
with pencil or ink
or careful strokes of both
inhaling the scent
of parchment imagined
papyrus dreamed of
soaps wrapped too closely
time for desecration

(just realised that this is the sixth to last piece of this crazy year long project. my god. it really is quite astounding on so many levels that this has come full circle, all things considered. let’s see if we can make these final few really count, hmm?)

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Basically, I deal in words.

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