A Hum

I can’t tell what you’re saying to me but
I want you to keep saying it
there’s a rhythm to your phonics
a rhythm built in bodies
varying degrees of connection to
I want to ride rhythms
ride the sounds that slip from your lips
to play them and drink them
slide them between fingers soft
tongue tips lick but just barely
there’s a sound to this
a hum that I hold when I’m alone
building in the interstice
between thought and feeling
waiting for the next time I get to hear it
it may not be special but it’s lovely
carries an innocence – refreshment
an escape from memory
as in: a call to the present
let’s play pretend
I’ll be as new as you are
I’ll even roll my r’s
when my eyes are closed you’ll know
it’s beyond words
connections of letters and words and sentences
I’ve lived novels without speaking
in the glint of an iris
in the softest flesh
under rooftops cross continents
building language in the incorporeal
space of existence
through acts
with loss of connotation

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