Getting lost in other’s stories, lives and words
is a form of devotion,
To the old gods that weaved threads of meaning in language and song.
I can sit for hours and cry, laugh and feel the blood thread connecting me to
We are more than readers and lovers of books-
We are dancers on the edges of universes,
Collapsing and being reborn on each page.
I can get lost
As within ritual;
Crumple in the simplicity of black on white-
Become another, for a heartbeat
While the world drags on
Copyright 2014 Nightshade author of The Purple Broom