At six months, I return to the words,
my world so full of other sounds now-
purring cat,
the incessant hiss of air,
our breathing
heavy with pleasure.
As if we ever needed language
to tell this story-
I drink you in with mouth
and eyes.
You- in the doorway, your voice lilting
upward like a leaf wanting sun,
You- reciting a sonnet,
a flip of hair
across your brow.
No words
between us
now.
