the po~et (the spell of words)

Words cast spells with every line. Or maybe in between where lovers meet. The slur of the r's and the buzzing of the s's line the tongue like honey. Words read in lofts and libraries from books smelling of forgotten trees. Covered by jackets, uncovered in the evening air and in dark rooms under night's light.

You'll remember them tomorrow when they have dusted the corners all night long, when they have weighed the head down making it hard to lift from the pillow.