Posted in poetry

ain’t nothing like it (asaguymustknowtosay)

you created a language for me,
soft sounds
and before my lessons were over
I spoke for you…
to you…
whispers softly gesticulating in you
a conversation unheard,
full of words
ain’t nothing like it

I try to remember you
and the language
rolls around on my tongue
the taste of your words
words, that can’t
be held forever
but that never fade,
blanketed memories of
a conversation linger
as warm as inside your
ain’t nothing like it

I wake knowing
there is no conversation
into the wind I speak
for you
to you
remembering the language
in distant echoes
of you
wrapping around me in song
a warmth that holds
my heated monologue
and, baby,
ain’t nothing like you




Poetic moments in the words of a dreamer and other randomness in the words of a believer. "Hang yourself, poet, in your own words. Otherwise, you are dead." ~ Langston Hughes

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