Learn a New Language

Your joy runs into peace into happiness into laughter before it becomes a highway without a stop sign - the shiny black asphalt and the breeze caressing your face teach you that fate is not ugly everyday A song strikes your tongue like a string and the vibrations say happiness say joy say a soul that has mastered all the languages that loss can speak. You are a man who can speak loss but prefers to sing the songs that stick to your tongue when you travel on this asphalt road. Before songs started sticking to your tongue you tried wrapping vowels from the language of loss into the flowers you took to her grave - until she visited you in your sleep with all your flowers and all the vowels in one arm and told you to just learn another language. Now you do not have to hide vowels in flowers to know that there are languages where good grammar is only drowning in sticky songs until you can no longer float Sometimes you walk by men whose loss has broken into crippled syllables whose letters might never stand together again and you say learn a new language in her glassy voice as if you had stuffed your throat shut with silk handkerchiefs