Why Words

        Why did my words
        make it back alive?
        And not you? not you?
        nor you? nor you and you?
        Words are my new clothes.
        Back there I didn't use them
        but danced naked shamelessly
        and sang like in the beginning
        before everything had a name
        and got all dressed up in words.
        Only from your words
        do I now remember you.
        My words are a storm.
        Only from those that aren't yours
        can I tell who you're not.
        Our words cross.
        I can tell you apart from each other
        by which words you choose.
        Why do I remember you
        by a verb, not a touch?
        Why can I remember you
        by a noun, not your eyes?
        Why will I remember you
        by a word you've pronounced,
        not by an unfamiliar voice?
        David reads me every word.
        His voice cracked the dense dark
        to clothe my world with your word.
        He named each of you by your word.
        He gave you life by your poetry.
        He made you dance in my dreaming
        by the nuance of your song.
        I don't know you.
        I have only memorized you
        from what he has read me.
                Why word?
                Why not what I had
                back there before I heard
                or spoke it out aloud?

3 Responses to “Why Words”

  1. 2012.05.04 at 12:37 am

    There’s a mystery in this…why the words had to be read to you…rather than your voice capturing the poets…an intriguing verse.

  2. 2012.05.06 at 4:49 pm

    I clothe myself in words, too, my friend. And life flows in verbs, nouns, sound of phrase. I understand this, so well. Be well, as you write.

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