The
world of our smallest gesture seems to us legendary
Our
words descended from an ancient race and vengeful
Metonymy
and metaphor the twin soldiers of syntax
Shake
trees tonight with such great laughter
And
beneath the similes we hear weeping and know so
Many
whispers in the air hang and finally fall between us
You
standing there and I standing here and you here
And
I there where are we we miss us! Listen we can’t
Hear
a thing we’re saying we can’t even read our lips
It’s
like trying to decipher a love letter written piecemeal
On
a rainstorm word by word drop by drop
Every
syllable slicing soft spring leaves cutting night
And
needling our eyes until we give it up we chuck
The
entire ecstatic dance the whole kit-and-caboodle
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