The Alchemy of a Sentence

I do this all the time. I start a sentence, trusting that there will unfold a purpose to what I write because…there is an element to the first sentence I write that attaches to the next sentence, forming a compound where letters gather to exercise in pairs, vowel to vowel or consonant to vowel, or consonant to consonant. I put the letters together in a word to escape singularity and to bond with the laws of cohesion that fit like right angles to the page, flowing like water over my hands from the fountain pen tip at the nucleus from where all sentences start, where all chemistry starts and ends. I do this all the time because the letters of the alphabet never change nor does the structure of a word but the composition of a sentence does so there will be infinite ways to turn words into gold.