He already laid out words for her–
careful as a typesetter.
The words lie directionless–left
to right, of course–but
without any journey set.
To think, oh, to think those cubes of
metal oriented thoughts so well
but ended in a tray at day’s end,
all the same.
Another path of words vines
within fitted stones, another
set towards a place of home,
and all along I … L … o and
so on, continued till all words