Stolen Apples

I make circles in your words.

Photo by Nathan Hulsey on Unsplash

I go in circles until I find the meaning of my words.

I stand on the shoulder of giants so that I might see the world — unknown to me, through a lens of grand design.

Another writer’s constructs, clearing the cobwebs from my mind.

Giving form to shapeless sights — warmth on frigid nights, knowing that the reckless…