An Itch

It's here. The unearthly hour when sentences seem to suddenly form from words that flow freely from my mind to my fingertips. I don't know why I can't write like this all of the time.

Maybe it's that the world has fallen asleep, and I feel that I am free; Free from the judgments of others {real or imagined}and from all obligations I may have to Time. I have enough presence of mind to think. Meditate. And edit my own thinkings...Which, many-a-time are better left unedited {methinks}.

Oh! How I wish I had a way with words. Some people know how to make words Sing. Some, to make them
 Scream.
             Leap.
                     Sparkle.
                                 Dance.
                                           Shimmer.
                                                           Fly!

But in each instance, every little detail is crystal clear as I am sucked into their life, their story.

I see. 

 I hear. 

I feel. 

And the imagery is stunning.

Sometimes, I just don't understand how they do it.
What I do know is, I will always be ready to throw myself into a good piece of literature.

 { ♥. }