Hark! The syllables of the heart
Are making, are forging desires
That fan out in the head
Like the eyes on peacocks’ tail
Clashing with reason
– With the thing that they see
Clashing with common sense
An inflamed invisible language drones on
Holidays, money, houses, cars
All the trappings of a game show
Love too is longed for
By the syllables of the heart
Syllables that glow in the dark
Syllables that sound like moons colliding
Like balloons rising into dreams and exploding
Syllables not belonging to any language
Mikes New Web 