There are words that get tinted,

Captured with at least one finger,

Like a piece we would have painted,

Or the scent of a flower.

There are words said on purpose,

That emerge from a familiar stranger,

Like the heat of summer,

Or an embarrassing pose.

There are words that bother,

And kill so easily.

Words we treat with acrimony,

without harmony, we couldn't see.

A maze of infinity,

There are words that express pity,

A tingle of happiness,

Or a whirlwind of mess.

There's something in our hearts,

That seems simple but so far away.

Maybe it's a work of art,

Which must be treated with care.