One Hundred and Fifty Six

I wish
I could be in a room with words.


Literally in a room
in front of a huge, floating, rotating orb
of words.


All the words I know.

I could walk up to it
and I'd be able to touch them
lightly
and they'd bound and jiggle in mid-air
like floating bubbles.

I'd take some and bring them together, collide them into sentences I could hold,
and they'd light up into these bright block words,
like Christmas lights,
and I could wrap them around me.

I wonder what 'trust' would feel like.