i want to build you castles of words,

letters looping into stairs & banisters –


standing up billboards of breath

in a sleepless city lit by commas &


question marks. i want to sprinkle consonants

into your dreams & i want you to wake up with poetry


under your tongue. i’ll soften all the vowels

that dewdrop on the roses & i’ll sculpt


the adjectives into a vehicle

to the extraordinary. my fingers


may be feeble & my heart may spin

rambling novels before it’s through,


but i’ll keep restacking these bricks

and trimming these topiaries


until every last syllable

comes out right.


by Sarah Marchant

Sarah Marchant is a writer, poetry editor, and literary enthusiast living in St. Louis.

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