Who needs words when the young run naked?
by MARINA GIPPS
Don’t call it love, refuse, and call it nothing.
Watch and know without speaking
Like God or a Judas.
Our eyes, first and foremost, to go wantonly.
Into the comforting hum of a silence,
Irises, green as money or lust, never coveted.
Do not ask why for it is the caged animal
who wishes for the boundaries of delineation.
Accept why a kiss feeds deeply,
why a hand holds your sacred malingering.
Do not utter a single syllable to yourself nor others.
Just stay quiet long enough for the night to grip,
to steal your favorite hidden daughter away.
Make decrepitude a new vocabulary.