Something of Signficance

Deep sighs and closed eyes when you realize there's not enough words in your lexicon to rely upon to summarize the way you feel or the things you wish, the longing of a memory,�  a distinct soft brush of lips upon lips- the desire to paint a picture, or ten, since they are worth one thousand words, I'd have nothing left to write then.
And that's quite alright because I'm sick of words- I can relate to Nelly Furtado I'd rather be with the birds
Spread my wings and fly, far far away.
Or up and up like Daedalus' son, naive young Icarus, what have you done?
And here comes the fall
The mighty fall from grace
The meeting of pavement and face
Alas, this too is still escape
Great.