We don’t speak much anymore

I’d like to think we’re both just too proud to speak first

But more than that, I’d like to believe we’ve just reverted to our past language

Speaking in labrynthian metaphors, untitled poems, and openly posted songs

She speaks with carefully curated lyrics

And I hide letters between the words of my poems to spell out all the messages I feel unable to send

Not for fear of rejection,

But disrespect

Or maybe more akin to stolen sips of Dad’s brandy

And I know it’s all just in my mind

My own fictional image procured from how I connect the dots

But again, I’d just like to think so

Because I can’t refuse the “what if’s” CPR

MEW 2019

Photo by Malte Wingen on Unsplash.

2 thoughts on “Language

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