evidently there are
different
kinds of screams.
they tell
stories;
how we move through the
world,
the way the sound enters
the ear, fires the limbic
system,
imbeds itself in the brain.
perhaps there’s something
there –
that first scream after
birth
silent, sometimes without
air,
fighting our way into the
light,
our entire body bearing down
upon the fear.
what is this new thing?
what is there here beyond
heat
and the dull throb of
heartbeat,
the muffled voices and
elastic stretch of membrane
and skin taut with promises,
the constant eruptions of
sound,
how we communicate
each moment:
the howl of existence,
raging against each
interruption,
the surprise of joy, rapture
lifting us into song, and
silence;
ruptures, and how we are
bowed
by weight, curling in upon
ourselves
until we find the words
to move out of our bodies
once
again.
use your words, we are taught,
but sometimes they are not
enough;
or there aren’t enough
words,
or there are too many.
it’s okay if there are no
words
right now –
eventually
you will find them.
