Poetry Friday - This House of Words

This house of words is made of ink and air:of ink on paper waiting to be read,of air that breaks in waves against the ear.It cannot hold a man of flesh and blood.I change the layout, trying to make you fit.You pass through walls, defying my designs,defying me. I can't contain you yet.I'm locked inside while I refine my plans.This house of words is made of air and ink,and in it dwell a you and I