Appreciation

Saying words of grace
takes time
to arrive first to the heart
the black hole of all things

even in tea

The tea here has your name
so I no longer drink it
dark, tall and handsome
the glass in my hand is empty

rejection

Discarded are the hours
you never slept
judged by a mysterious hand

Peace with a native tongue

The horse in me stopped fighting
for a greener pasture
made peace with the rye around because it was always home.

a battle against tongues

I feel like I am running a battle against tongues
one my mother gave me that contains
enough expressions to make possible, life
with the others I have gained along the way

collecting like star-dust
meaning, word after word to make sense
of other ways to say the same things
but with gentleness, with vigor, with insanity

I feel like I am running a battle against tongues
that get out of the way when I love
because I lose language in seconds
before I fall

stammering at my basic ABCs
that are replaced by music,
butterflies and somber lyrics
one I call softness

I feel like I am running a battle against tongues
as one leaps to the front at the very minute I push it backwards
biting down on sailor language, wrong adjectives
in fear of the sharp blade it has

making peace in a battle is impossible
but living like siblings has proved a good use
for you cannot hate on your own blood
even if it flows through different veins.