my tongue
is searching
for some sort of language
to be able to speak in.
wracked among words
of no specific culture,
belonging to no one
and all
at the same time
i do find myself.
nobody told me
when i first came here
the need to be assigned
could ruin
even speech.
why do i bother?
oh, the hell, why do i bother?
heaven and hell alike
need no confinements.
nor do i.
God
bears
different names
only because of us.
He's still the same
with no other otherness
than the names we named Him.
what art configuration
do i need to perform
so everyone
can hear me?
can you imagine
the titanic battle
that crams into my mouth?
can you hear my tongue breaking?
hoping to find the right words...
words... words... words...
my poor sweet Hamlet
how do i catch thy arduousness.
now is the time for our battles
the language to be broken
into so many pieces
there'll be no language left
no more!
all understanding all.
no boundaries left to cross
not even words.
and
then
i can rest my tongue.
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