Creating You

This poem is for nothing more than
Words let loose like ants in ordered panic
After the boot has heaved their heavenly earth
From off its Babel form.

No necessary theme.
Bereft of crafty schemes.
Just words.

I can think of dripping honey
And a three-day slumber.
Ah, beautiful words.
Anything to fuel creation.

It's all about creation.
Procreate and produce.
Not just any trifle fart, but the real.
The you. Create the you.
In your words speak worlds
Into being.

Like dripping honey and a three-day slumber.