Yet I am in love with words
They are doves falling out of the ceiling
They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap
They are the trees, the legs of summer,
and the sun, its passionate face

Yet they often fail me.
I have so much I want to say,
so many stories, images, proverbs, etc.
But words aren’t good enough,
the wrong ones kiss me.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
but with the wings of a wren.
“Words” by Anne Sexton  (via thesamedevice)

(via and-any-army)

Source: thesamedevice

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