When the words left me
A gasping gerund dying in the wind
I sucked in silence through a paper straw
Forcing shriveled lungs to move
As they denied her entry
When the words left me
The severed syllables lost all meaning
So I leapt to gather consonants scattered in the wind
I searched for broken vowels in forgotten coffee cups
Forming conjunctions that might reunite them
When words left me
I ripped open nailbeds to find crooked letters
Scratched bleeding sores on a pocked, ashen face
Split strands of hair curling the sink drain
Searching for the syntax to bring me meaning
When words left me
I thumbed through the dog-eared pages
The stale scent of yellowed print
Punctuating stories
That were not mine
When words left me
Past tense
I Shrouded my body in layers of linen
As the darkness whispered alternative endings
And new definitions of departure
These words left me
To form chapters I did not write
So, for now, I let the silence speak
For now, I sit upon idle hands
My tongue resting at the roof of my mouth
Waiting to welcome their return.
cuprunnethover 