Pale without light

Words
that call with each inhalation
some lacking crisp meaning,
instinctual or flavored with
their appropriate use.
Careless with my definitions
I throw them about me,
laying seeds for a garden.

And when inspiration falls inopportunely
when I cannot reach for a pen
my words sprout messily, and
clump without regard for what's around them.

They start their life still in their packets,
locked away from a light in a drawer--
somehow the steady leaks of
watering emotion
trickle down into the crevices of
my notebooks
to cause these kernels to seek out and
grab onto each other, like slithering
hands in all directions.