I wrapped sentences so tightly
their tension became my tendons.
My commas stretched into bone;
my hyphens into the length of my spine.
The adventurer slipped into my fingertips-
the lover into my chest
the dreamer flooded my skull.
Quotations faded into muscle and
the freak found my limbs to be home.
The pencil works best not on paper
but rather on flesh and skin,
poets aren\'t made to write poetry...
rather poems are made to write them.