Every Word Is Loaded

Every word is loaded.
Charged through an ancestry of use.
Insufficient comforting dangerous hand-me-downs.
They belong to no one,
Belong to everyone.

Mouth-filling. (Feel them there?)
Brain-spilling. (Your mind just flooded mine in a whisper!)

By breath or spirit (same thing!)
They move between our souls on freeways hastily,
Or cautious as on tightropes.
Two, three at a time.
I love you. Three.

Every word is a toy.
Play.
Pick it up, twist it apart, see how it works.
Roll it around and crash it into things, boys.

Every word a picture, but blurry.
See?
Inked black or thought in gray.
Even spoken.

And broken?
So are we.

So we borrow them.
(We do not own them!)
Hear me.
We just take our turn--
And add our use to their sum.
And hand them down, further.

It is our duty.

Every word is loaded.