Vicki Hudspith The 2River View, 7.3 (Spring 2003)
Your Flawless Speech

Measures darkness
By moving shade

Glances of metaphors
Their creaseless hands bear disregard for grace
In a world filled with its own emptiness

Grief, a tomb of inexpensive luxuries
Level with ground like water
Runs itself dry

A new emblem, flawless devotion
Is worn above
Unnecessary objects

Wasted gestures
Matching shoes and handbags
Out of date, left to rot in closets

I am cast into the mouth of dreamless sleep
An aftertaste of radios
Watches, computers and cell phones
In a swath of melting autumn
Is an energetic surge
Loved as much as dawn

To know spices
Is to know a fever of continents
An opaque river courses

As if it were still a welcome place
This is how I will call to you
Hold you close, fear you

Your name, which I could never pronounce
I know better than my own
Have committed to memory your flawless speech

Squeezed into a living museum
Of verbs
Domestic and foreign

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