Having Words

They see me hanging out,

with all the pretty boys.

They may even see me with their fella,

and call me a ho,

but no.

I could’ve spent the morning 

with a lover,

maybe even your lover,

but it’s sexier to stay in bed with words. 

They find out I write the words,

the words that catch all the pretty girls,

and they call me a lesbian,

but no.

They see me sneakin around on the fringes

and call me a dealer,

and I am.

I deal in words.

Words are smokin hot!

They attract.

Listen to the words from that one! 

Whew! 

He got a turn of phrase.

Is it just us? 

Or you ampersand I? 

Without the words,

you’re at a loss. 

You gotta find the words,

with the roots,

that tunnel down deep

into the soul,

words to make the heart respond, 

“Yes, those words,

from that guy,

in this space and time,

traveled all this way,

because they were meant to fall 

on these ears,

on this day,

and be taken 

this way. 

How you gonna touch me,

if you can’t even reach me? 

And lets get rid of all those weird rules

no one likes, 

such as: 

You are into me except after her.

And 

he always comes before me

especially after alcohol. 

You take my  words,

and slam them shut,

put them on a shelf. 

I’ve made you see

too deeply inside yourself.

If these phrases

that I put together 

just for you 

fall on deaf ears,

then I won’t say

another 

word. 
(c) Trinny Sigler 2020