Echo Muses 9.

Rattle of Tongues

I know these words are somewhere
down inside me.
Some I held as a child.
Sisters spoke in endless streams
to flood a river.
No room to pour out, no echo to rattle in their ears.
Locked up for years.
My mouth felt like the arroya split.
Until we met near the December pines.
You pushed me out into that frozen lake.
My mouth filled up in frost.
When I spoke, my words emerged slowly, like icy swirling ghosts.
You were the miracles in those days.
The founder of my blue heart.
The day you left Vincent,
was the day I lost my voice again.
I long for my rattle,
To speak endlessly, while you smile back at me.

Photograph:ย Talking to Vince, Francesca Woodman

Poem:ย Nara

 

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Kryptonite

Mouthless Bell

Even if I’m shoutin, from the outside,
Does anyone listen to bells anymore?
Does anyone hear this striking noise?

How can I hold myself up?…when slipping on chalk dust floors.

And you live life in a centrifuge of hope.
But I cannot wish to be your paramount.
And I cannot wish to hold your gaze for so long.

Even if I’m shoutin, inside,
Can I even admit this to you?
For I need to scream,
But I have no mouth.

Even if I’m shoutin, inside,
It doesn’t really even matter.
For no one hears a worn out soul.

Please do not linger sunshine.
I’m thieving for a moon seat.

Art: Daehyun Kim Moonassi

Poem: Naomi Ruth

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