we are stories

we are stories.

poems open soul
in ripples -
concentric color
bled deep in hungry minds.

we are words

after all,
but we’re breathing.

our fingers write remedies
rich
with perspective.

the poem leaves a seed
in the blood
of its host.

we taste text with
parched lips,
carve out hallways of
memory
to walk through.

we are stories,
after all,

we are moments.

a poem can open doors.

- © V 2016