reminding me that words are not the only language.
There is a language
of breaths
and sighs,
of glances,
of memories of falling dice.
There’s a language of glares
and jabs,
and winks,
and handshakes,
and silver hair.
There’s a
language of energy
filling the air. I speak
the language
babes learn with their
very first breath:
the language of how to
avoid death.
