I eat words.
Devouring morsels of intellect
with the cutlery of my mind,
absorbing their succulence.
Rolling them around with my tongue,
my mouth-watering with their weight.
I move letters like chess pieces,
displaying them as art on a pedestal.
They are individual yet whole:
Form and function,
almost arrogantly literal
yet multifaceted at once.
I crave this platter of beauty.