I wish I could run through this forest text naked.
My arms stretched out,
Every letter swimming through my fingers,
Making spaces in between.
I would hop along these scribbled blocks
splotted on college ruled river streams.
I would walk gracefully across strikethroughs
hanging over each organized indent between cliffs.
I would travel many pages, many turns
To climb this giant mountain of speech
Not to conquer or to boast,
But just simply to see.
Up there would be a clear view of our whole conversation.
Up there, I could see words from a geographic view.
Up there, I see literacy sketching lines and typing patterns.
From up there, I could never be misled. Misconstrued.
And if I would so choose,
I may fall forward limp and blind.
And when I break my lids at the bottom come dawn,
the rays of your light would fill colour into my chrome eyes.
And I will see the sky.
