Gareth Jones
Lost For Words
I remember you would slip between my paragraphs:
we would understand each other perfectly.
but silences bred gaps we lost our pasts in:
I no longer recognise myself in the way you speak.
Now we are foreigners in conversation,
failures of mutual translation.
And my dumb flesh cannot voice its desire
to crush you and be crushed in reply.
We were losing each other
from the moment we spoke.
Page(s) 39
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