I do not speak in words.

I speak in fluids

Water

Air

The silk scarf of the

breeze, warm like a wave

on my skin.

I speak in rocks and sharp edges

My words can

sting.

My thoughts are hunger

overfilling and underfilling an upset

balance.

I

speak

in

leaves

that dance and curl in the blue

and stand stark against the sunset

My words are stains

different from the patterned

background

They are white.

My words are wilting flowers

and drops in the ocean

I

speak

in

pieces

of music, flowing like

a dancer’s story, told as

a snake charmer’s song, sung by

a poet who writes with

a sword.

I do not speak in words.

I

speak

in

hands

like trees

and trees like swans

I speak in love.

 

I

speak

in

undying.