Words

I fell in love with his words...

Thick, lofty, opaque...
sealed with a mystic,
hypnotic excellence
that intrigued my heart.

Zapped through cellular lines
and sing-sung to me
on lonesome nights.

The grace of each syllable
he spoke seemed to lull
every part of my being.

It was the craft of his speech
and the pace of his tongue that
drew me in.

 

I noticed I felt comfort in them.
Found myself knee deep,
bathing in the brilliance
of their continuity.

Yes, the sound of his voice
got me,
good.

 

Got me all tangled up in
the illusion of what might be.
Leaving my reality
hanging in the bounds...

I fell in love with his words...

 

 

Bold, stocky, bright,
beaming with authenticity,
at first.

It was the sculpted sentences
stringed together by he,
that outlined
my pillow at night.

Giving me sweet dreams
of what love,
seemed to be.

Until each word he spoke,
seemed to slither
a downward spiral,
unkempt and messy.

Though I continued to hold on to each part
of his speech, hoping that they
would mirror the stride of his walk.

See, I fell in love with a man
for his words.

Fell head over heels
for the possibility...

Until the words he spoke
were unparalleled to his actions.

Until whatever trudged across his tongue
made me cringe with heartache.

Until hearing his voice became a nagging
sounding note to my eardrum.

Until his presence made me numb, and
I could no longer stand the feel of his tongue
on my tongue.

So I loosed the grip of his repeated verses
from around my soul,
and rejected the bitter-
sweet nothings embedded
in my heart

Instead I began to listen to me-
reflect on the neglect
and I fell in love with
words of my own.

Became seduced by the thought of
liberating, kick-his tail to the curb
lines practiced in my head.

When all his words to me
became shriveled and used up...
In the end it was
my own words
that got me through it...

When his words were no longer spoken

Tanette
2012