Words are delicious.
Since I was a little girl, I’ve devoured them with fervour. Back then, it was fiction that carried me to the edges of my imagination and beyond. My recent vice, however, is poetry. It’s far too easy for me to get lost amongst the overload of information. When I read a poem, I latch on to a few lines and find myself repeating them in my mind like affirmations. It brings me back to myself and centers me.
Pablo Neruda’s timeless words, I turn over and over in my palms like flower petals that never wilt from touch.
Irninology 