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Not Averse
they prefer to sing in languages they cannot speak,
their tongues dancing
their legs dancing in different tongues
their eyeballs rolled heavenward, phonemes falling thick and fast
their babble: tongues, their diphthongs dripping, from
their lips and
their mother tongue the tongue of love.
they use their words, saying eyes are the window to the soul
but eyes don’t talk to God:
mouths do
mouths don’t talk to God:
tongues don’t talk to God
sweet symphonies rely solely on sound
meaningless sound, vertical, horizontal, meaningful
the solar system’s magicians and musicians and mathematicians
draw from an ancient well of that which can’t be spoken, only sung
can’t be sung, can’t be wrong
and when their lips and legs lock together in an unbreakable twist
their kisses aren’t words
and the great big massive enormous wide universe full of galaxies and black holes and stars
makes no sound
only their tongues
sing