Why cure words?

The muse is afar 

A single soliloquy is 

all I can muster 

I have forgotten the 

words of loneliness 

the syllables of despair

The drifting moon 

cracks open the secrets 

of longing but the text is 

 undecipherable 

Why do you call forth 

in unfathomable gestures? 

Can't the rain be simple? 

Can't the dusk just slip

into the script of the night

unwritten? Can't love be 

longed for silences? 

Why cure words? Why 

run through language 

holding our hands like 

strangers?

Aug. 19, 2016