it feels silly,
trying to funnel
the thoughts,feelings,ideas,intuitions
into little words.
it's a feeling
of being foreign,
and not speaking the language.
the communication
doesn't suffice.
the nuances get lost.
the hand gestures may get me
to the metro,
or the train, but not into my
own being.
the wavering lines
straighten
and the beauty
loses its wonder
as it's encoded
in order to be understood.
(the smile
becomes dopamine,
the magic
becomes probability
of compatibility
and the symphony
becomes a sum
of its mechanically
moving parts.)
the words--
just cut
and fill the air.
the melodic trinity
leaves me wondering,
and its absence
leaves my
brain in an ineffable
--buzz.
DLS
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