I find a word
on a galloping journey
and wonder, wonder
what to do with my new found word?
I could breathe it out and cut You.
I could use it to cut into Me.
I could throw it – plop – into an ocean.
I could bury it deeply – dug with a weapon
or I could hold it gently;
notice a shape, a tingle, a texture;
a thumping background rhythm
and I could make an offering.
I could let it be.