Poets (Of Writing Poems, Words, Letters) Poem by Eila Mahima Jaipaul

I've spent time
quiet,
with words

taking them apart
analyzing each character
each symbol
seeking meaning
in the way they curve together
bending sublime
into one another
like ancient rituals
done in dark places
with candles and incense

I've chewed the sticks and arcs
of letters

their turns smooth on the tongue
their points masticated in contemplation
between ignorant working class teeth
with slack jaws

yet there they sit

just words
piled high, with familiarity
from long ago
like the smell of a room
colored by tiredness
and exhaustion that seeps from pores