By: Bianca Phipps
I have never felt so at ease
as the day you called me
precocious.
I have never feared big words,
only those that refuse to use them,
and the syllables rolled of your tongue
like honey,
I was hooked.
Language became our vein of communication.
and I know that everybody uses language to communicate,
but ours was different.
As if in between the letters and the syllables
there was a secret message
only we could decipher.
My days were filled with the sound of your voice,
and your nights were littered with the loops of my handwriting.
We exchanged our favorite words;
Mine being illuminated,
yours being cattywhompus.
And our least favorites,
mine moist
and yours almost.
and when I asked you why
you said it was because
almost
held failed potential.
That it represented our ability to be
just not good enough.
That we had come to the brink
of something beautiful
so many times,
we crafted a word for it.
but even we,
with our supposed mastery of the english language
were not immune to the short comings of our vocabularies,
words can only help you if you speak them.
I never told you that I loved you,
You never told me you were dying.
five easy words that would’ve
shattered
our worlds.
I love you I think.
I have a brain tumor.
you know,
still to this day i don’t know all the details,
because medical jargon has never fit right in my mouth
and even now,
five years later,
it feels like an invasion of your privacy.
But I do know I have
poured
over our conversations,
searching
for that secret message you
certainly tried to send me
and i’m sorry,
but I only
almost
found it.
salt water is not good for paper
and my tears warped your words.
After some serious consideration
I decided to change my least favorite word,
because while moist is gross,
malignant is malicious,
malignant is uncontrollable,
mans a phone call and the phrase
“he didn’t wake up.”
Malignant is messy,
and unfair
and a thief.
Malignant means I never got to say goodbye.
Malignant is the cause of almosts.
because you were on the brink
of something beautiful
and you couldn’t quite reach it,
and you fell too far.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you.
I hope your heaven is a library
and I hope it’s void of almosts.
Seychelles.
Octubre 18, 2021
6:18 pm
(por si quieren ver a la poeta declamarlo)
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