I found an old book for 5p the other day and have been taking a page at a time, redacting sentences and sometimes whole paragraphs to reveal a constellation of words that when connected make poetry (that’s the theory anyway).
Even if nothing comes from the page I’m finding it quite a soothing activity; on my breaks and when my brain is being too hyperactive to focus on my own work, this has helped keep me a little less off track.
Here is a little one from a page today.
Breath felt somewhat mad but relaxed,
Denying her beautiful until time revealed disappointment.
Tears, shut eyes.
Suddenly everything completed.