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Love is the only language

I said

 “Love the language

that translates



I said that,

I said
“Love is the language

that translates differences


And when two people

agree to speak

that language

They understand

 each other

and when they cease

to speak

 to each other

in that language

 life becomes

a tower of Babel

and the differences

become incomprehensible

 And the Man

devours distances


Or so said Robert Bly

And I’ve said so myself,

The man



and the woman



 and neither on can be consoled


Love is the language

     that translates


          and in its absence

we make other arrangements


Mostly political,

an alliance

against a common foe,

at best

Mutual assured destruction

at worst



Practical agreements


like wary adversaries

giving up

only as much

as they dare


Not so much a truce

as a suspension

of distrust


Not so different

than animals

at the watering hole

Not so different


We all thirst

on that we all agree


 but once slackened

one by one

we fade back

into the savanna

back into the cover

 of the tall grass

and the darkness

where eyes glow

 like Hungry stars


Where the future

 is a night

with no horizon

where the shadows

of crumbling watch towers

dot the landscape


Where love is the only language

that translates



and silence


through the heart

like a scythe