344 – An Idea Plucked From The Air

It used to be that I could pluck you from the air
Like the warm taste of an idea I was having
You’d be laid out perfectly in front of me
In the same way a full buffet would be
Morsels of sentences and thoughts
Inspired by cuisine I’d never tried before
Now, your punctuated rhythm is a destination
As yet untouched by the breath of any pen
Your secrets now have to be deciphered
Because they have spent too long hiding
From swords that might turn them into the
Unrequited poetry you never wanted to be
Our story starts on the edge of darkness
Waiting for a writer to love long enough