Language I Don’t Speak

I don’t. Not.
Can’t.  Tongue
loose in back,
lost in front,
a word was here and
then no, can’t, and
gone.

Negative space,
meaning nothing’s there?
Not exactly, no.

A revelation through
absence? No,
the figure
has no ground.

I don’t
ground, here.
Not grounded.  No,
figure that…figure
it, figure out if

there is any
“yes” to be found
in being
suddenly unable to speak
local language
when I was fluent
an hour ago up until
that flash, those
eyes…

well, one joy
is making new
mythology to back
any tongue I might,
you know, invent,
what to play with before
settling because

no one here seems to get
how much swamp of
no, can’t, won’t there is.

so, I build a yes.
make one from scratch.  teach
the eyes what flash
means, what shared yes
is,

how to thrill together with
what we put, what we
place, what we set to flight,

how to mean what’s
in our mouths,

how to
pass it between.