By: April Mae Berza

If words could touch you,
Let them caress you like a long lost lover,
Weary from battle, the war of raw,
An encounter with the inevitable.

If words could touch you,
Let the syllables play within the core
As the troubadours take part in
The more solitude be tolerable
Be with the words
Words whose cradle within
Returns to the primitive.

If words could touch you,
Let them be but do not
Every word is an enemy of action
Every action, a friend to none.