Your first language after heartbeat:

Music. This foreign tongue, human,

is hard. It works slow and strange

in the mouth, bitter in truth and lies,

its grammar convoluted; the idioms

of face and body incomprehensible

to the non-native, but (carelessly

coached) you tried.

Until you stopped.

“Shut down,” they said: cold divorce.

Of course your heart never closed,

God knows you bled all unspoken

through chord and melody, but the

other, so rarely used, fell dissonant

at her feet.


5 thoughts on “Linguistic”

  1. Une ode à la musique…
    … all unspoken
    through chord and melody…
    Made me think of a famous Hugo’s quote:

    “Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”
    ― Victor Hugo

    Merci une nouvelle fois Jennifer pour tant de grâce.



    1. Maybe I had that Hugo quote floating around somewhere in the back of my mind…wise man, Hugo. Thank you for your beautiful comment.


    1. Yes, a heartbreaking circumstance that really got me thinking about how we communicate and share ourselves. Thanks for your comment. ❤


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