deepundergroundpoetry.com
Speaking Wordless
She was speaking wordless
conversed an unfamiliar way,
and I, I heard less,
the more she had to say.
She spoke to me of our future
by stance, by glance, by tilt of her head,
but I, caught in some other culture
couldn't get it into my deaf head?
The confusion slowly unravelled.
but time's hand declined to wait,
as it grinds onwards, it revelled,
each tick, a mock, too late, too late...
She comes to mind now, unbidden,
as, when we were young,
but now I can not be rid of
this expressive one.
She was speaking wordless
conversed a different way
and I, I heard less,
the more she had to say.
conversed an unfamiliar way,
and I, I heard less,
the more she had to say.
She spoke to me of our future
by stance, by glance, by tilt of her head,
but I, caught in some other culture
couldn't get it into my deaf head?
The confusion slowly unravelled.
but time's hand declined to wait,
as it grinds onwards, it revelled,
each tick, a mock, too late, too late...
She comes to mind now, unbidden,
as, when we were young,
but now I can not be rid of
this expressive one.
She was speaking wordless
conversed a different way
and I, I heard less,
the more she had to say.
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