now i have to use elevated speech or invent
words that will mean what i want to say
it is not easy, the speech of angels, especially
coming from angels far away from god the tongue
is a slimy and slippery stone that hangs
in my throat and waits on the spit of a spirit
to sluice the tumid terms and to seed words
that can twist and pull a tooth from me blood
cooling my mouth parts and boiling blank
runes out from my heart maybe a god with
a core of its own will hear my plea these days
then not feel that need to tear life out a kind host
no vengeance-of-the-lord wings whip-cracking
but one who speaks clearly and makes words
i have never heard unclouded words
flowing cool like blue-chilled milk and i can say
them in likeness to you my breath will be
silvered frost and my speak will save you
you will know what it means when you hear it
the meaning you will know when i make my echo
(mostly words mean less than nothing
now all are mockeries of sound)
seasofme 181115parallaxis
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Poetrymy personal favourites in one book. these all come from older collections. hardly any of the media belong to me