There are big words for
big ideas — but,
there are small words
for everything else,
like face, like eye, like lip.
Like quiver and tear,
there are small sounds,
both long and short-
waved, pronouncements
into the flesh of things,
like shrug and turned

There is gone
and pang and thunder,
not fully summed
in squandering, and
half-lived in regret,
as if chained was little
more than an entry,
some fiscal syntax
born out as a debit,
an accounting, of all
the small words that fell
between you and I.

Image: Maxime Horlaville on Unsplash

8 Thoughts

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