| Author | Message | ||
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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3631 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Letters to My Children Lisa Janice Cohen There are no weapons here but words" --Pablo Neruda This is not a bedtime story about the man who stuttered as a child. He finally learned to sing, let the meaning flow past lips and tongue like water. When I speak, I vomit swords, slit the insides of my own throat. I swallow, taste the tang of salt and iron. At night, I forge my right hand into an instrument of peace, pick up this pen. Words the color of dried blood saturate a white sheet. |
