Letters and paper all around,

Begging, pleading for release,

My hands run down their shivering spines,

Gasping, breathing in relief,

As I free them from their prison,

Of wood and glass and dark,

Words dance and swim like dolphins,

Crashing through a pasty surf,

Twisted, tangled jungle vines for me

To tear and climb, overwhelming,

Intoxicating, lost and found

Floating, drowning, sea of ink,

These stories are alive!