Oh darling, I can introduce you to a world
Where pens flow more smoothly than your hair,
Where words taste sweeter than sugar;
Mellifluous, serendipity, petrichor, nostalgia,
As your tongue dances exuberantly across your palate,
Or taps eagerly against the back of your teeth,
And your lips extend in delight
To traverse glorious territories.
I can use the same 26 letters you learnt at five years old
And package them into gifts you’ll rush to unwrap.
I can teach you to breathe words off pages
Or slip them into your back pocket,
And save them for another day.
I can tell you all about the rush
When letters surge through your veins,
And teeter right at the tips of your fingers.
I can give you dictionaries that you’ll balance on your tongue,
Repeat the pages again and again, exclaiming at each syllable.
Darling, if you let me, I’ll stay up with you all night,
Weaving lullabies from dots and strokes,
Counting stanzas instead of sheep.
Darling, just nod your head
And we can write a story
That encompasses the ever-expanding universe.
I’ll teach you to use your tears as ink,
And channel the sparkle in your eyes
Into calligraphy bursting with swirls.
We’ll repaint the beauty of old photographs tucked away into the back corners of dusty drawers,
Because artists and photographers;
They’re nothing when it comes to capturing.
And darling, if you want,
We’ll never draw a full stop,
Because these stories we dwell upon,
These ink hearts we stamp,