Conversations with Myself 1.5
Some days I have no words.
I search for them,
and try to pull them down.
It as if they left for the day
to find some magic outside my head.
On other days they flow like a river,
I cannot catch them fast enough.
I drown in their screaming.
On best days,
they ebb and flow like the tide.
They come to me in sincerity.
I put them down, rearrange them like a puzzle.
And when l feel their serendipity,
I let them go.