the way I read

whom am I for the way I read

words taken in as if inwardly spoken?

not sure about that

phrases breeze past 

and I get the drift in a feeling way

yes thoughts did register

but there is a long line waiting to be read

not all words are impressive in that way

not every word has a carving tool in its belt

maybe at times I look for direction

rather than impact

action rather than definition

implications rather than truth

read is sometimes a foreign environment

I wanted hearsay rather than print

I wanted keywords stampeding me

I wanted whisper rather 

than silence with eyes

I wanted the stance of a single page

not the cover to cover staring me down

I have yet to experience reading 

while running

nor seen billboard print in an open book

read is like a religious ritual 

without the god part

I suppose content should be 

the obvious draw

but for me

read is like wardrobe 

my mind wears what is offered

for a while 

and then I'm back to nude 

without read on my mind

that's who I am 

for the way I come to read . . .