This morning I woke up with a cherry flavored limerick in my head.
i never thought it would be
so difficult to find warm sleep.
in your place
i've discovered synthesized heat.
the disruption of flow in "in your place" has a wonderful place in my brain as I repeat the words, and seem to stumble each time on how to fit its short length. i love to stumble. i love puns (this one doesn't work all that well if you break it down though).
there is something romantically poetic about falling asleep thinking about words, and waking up in the morning with a little some something in my head. i do question where these come from though. i feel as though sometimes i am but a transcriptionist, serving as an outlet for words to escape onto paper, or corridors in my mind. what's the word i am searching for?
