GH (5 3 38 / leipzig)


Eloquence, some say, is empty,
shunning fine words that are spoken,
shattered all like Humpty-Dumpty,
mute, irrevocably broken,

but I always search for places
words can fill when I feel numb,
reassuring with their graces
Tweedle-Dees who tweedle-dumb

their own lives and ours, evading
all engagement, anywhere,
like outsiders, never trading
what insiders ought to share.

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