My Words. My Pages. My Lover.
aka open me like a book...
Open me like a book.
Crease my unclaimed and unbroken spine and turn over the pages of my paper-thin flesh with care. With devotion. With curiosity.
Read every single word of me.
Digest every paragraph. Every chapter. Every story within the bigger novel of who I show myself to be.
Reread me as many times as you need to. Want to. Desire to. Ache to. Putting the book of me down to take in, absorb, what every sentence means, so that you receive me, every letter, into the cells of your being.
Drop into the spaces between the words. Look for the meaning hidden between. What is said in the silence. In the gap. What is whispered to you that is not written on the page in black and white. Get to find the secrets I secrete in what I never outright say or reveal to you.
Feel me. Not just with your fingers tracing the words. But let the fingertips of your mind wander and wonder all over my skin. Let the ink of me leave its mark upon your fingers, your soul, imprinting myself into your blood.
Read me backwards and learn something new.
Read me late at night. In the bath. In your bed. By candlelight.
Let me take you on a ride through the landscape of emotion. Of memory. Of imagination.
Let your tears fall upon me, illuminating and magnifying that which touched you and made you feel more of who you are.
Let me be your intimate companion. Just you and I. For a while. For some time. Two universes colliding bursting into a cosmic galaxy of an entwined letter-limbed life.
Hold me close to you. Wrap your arms around me in tender embrace. Be the cover to my book.
Be furious with me and throw me across the room.
Lay me down on the table with reverence as you pause.
Fold over my edges like a lover, to refer back to later on because they’re important to you.
Touch yourself after spending time with me, my pages open, waiting, expectant, for your return, for your fingers to stain me with your release, with your juices, with your scent.
Not want for me to end so go slow. Slower. Slower still. Until time stops.
Tell the world about me with excitement of such treasure that you’ve found. Just don’t expect them to truly get it. That’s ok. This is ours and ours alone.
Reach for me when you wake.
Let me be the last thing you touch before you close your eyes to dream.
Take me with you as you move through your day. Your life. Feel the weight of me as presence as you do.
Place me someplace with care, and upon occasion flirt with getting to know me all over again, from the very beginning, knowing that you’ll discover more than you thought you first knew.
Though you will read others in such ways, you will never forget me. I’m in your mind, your heart. You’ve been changed by spending time with me. You’ve learned me, and by that knowing, I understand you too. I am a part of you.
Forever.
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Our next LIVE mentoring for writers session is this coming Thursday 5th June at 6pm BST. Bring your articles, essays, poems, screenplays, book chapters and scripts, and let’s spend time together getting deeper into your craft.
Available to all upgraded supporters of the Writing The Revolution Membership Community.
Here’s to your creative revolution, Heidi Hinda
