Poetry of a Conlanger

Wednesday, February 08, 2006


Wait for the inspiration,
Wait for the words
To describe this,
Whatever it may be named.

This fresh breathlessness,
The new ring in my laughter,
The sparkle to the world,
These wings on my heart...

Sometimes I wonder if it’s too good to be true.

But then I’ll look over my shoulder
And see you,
Reflected in a mirror only we can see,
And I’ll know
That I’m not alone
After all.


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