Popcorn leaps, popping from the floor of a hot black skillet and into my mouth.
Black words leap, snapping from the white page.
Rushing into my eyes sliding into my brain which gobbles them .
The way my tongue and teeth chomp the buttered popcorn.

When I have stopped reading, ideas from the words stay stuck in my mind. 
Like the sweet smell of butter perfuming my fingers long after the popcorn is finished.

I love the book and the look of words the weight of ideas is that popped  into my mind I love the tracks of new thinking in my mind.

(Adapted)