I am sometimes troubled
by the “flimsiness” of language.
That you could take a word like “trust”,
put it on the floor, stamp on it and tarnish it
till I can no longer listen with a smile, to your heartbeat.
I am deeply excited by language
That you could take a string of characters like “bungzit”
and give it a meaning. Say it over and over and over again
until my scrunched up forehead flattens out under the rumble
of my stifled giggle.
You swing language
like a tennis stick that has a big oval opening, covered in a
mesh which you use to strike a ball across
a low hanging net.
I trust you know what I mean. Bungzit