On Writing by Sandra Lee Schubert

I could leave this world behind. I would crash if I wanted. Spinning me out of time. Instead, I say, “You must write, girl.” Take your pencil. Scrape some lead across the paper. Lick the lead off the white. Lick between the lines.

Oh, God. Tongues are so useful, sinewy, and primed for exploration. If one could prod between a verb and an adjective, lick the flavor from a word, would an orange taste the same as a word lobbed around the tongue? I don’t know.

Can my tongue feel the delicate line words rest on? Does each greenish-blue line have a texture different from the stark white of the paper? Could I pluck them like a musical instrument? Or would the lines feel like the thread I run through my mouth when I prepare to thread a needle?

If words were a meal.

If novels were a banquet.

If poetry were a dessert, both bitter and sweet. If I licked each word from the paper would they satisfy me? Or do I remain hungry?

I want to lick the posters on the subway. Taste the salt of a thousand hands, the thickness of each letter rendered. My tongue might take a chance on the deep well of the U in Tom Cruise’s name. Would my tongue tingle with excitement over the title of an adventure movie? Would a love story melt like warm chocolate over my tongue and down the sides of my mouth?

Have I become dreamy with the prospect of licking the vowels in your name? The thought of running my tongue over your hyphenation- spelling you with each flick of a capital letter. Does betrayal taste as sour written on parchment? Would I get more from rice paper? Can a fountain pen give words more flavor? Would a flair pen delight as well?

I dreamt of you writing a song on the white of my torso, your mouth creating rhythm and harmony over the crest of my well-rounded hip- each word flayed the flesh and I was well written.

You told me I tasted like whiskey on a chilly day, burning your mouth with music.

Oh, I lick the lead from the paper and swallow words in bits and pieces. Can I ever be satisfied?

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Photo by Raphael Schaller on Unsplash

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