Seize the phrase.
The one so beautiful it makes your brain hurt before
you can spill it to the page. Corral the words, and bid
them play follow the leader on these long white halls,
before they wander off into dark rooms of their own to
sulk and skulk about, poke skeletons back into musty
closets. Catch the wind and begin, knowing the lines
will come, as the sun and the moon vie for the sky. Try
to hold a letter up to the light, see through its thin veil,
turn it upside down, crush one edge, and beg it to sing.
Fling your heart out into the world, a boomerang caught
in a world fraught with ditches and craters and caves.
Steal these symbols and syllables and signs, crush them
fine between your fingers and smear them into your skin.
Cradle these keys and unlock your own tongue, free what
wants to stay, then capture it again in your net-less hands
and pin it like a butterfly to the page, before it flits away.