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
devours
distances
and the woman
embraces
bitterness
and neither on can be consoled
Love is the language
that translates
differences
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
negotiated
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
Thirsting
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
differences
and silence
sweeps
through the heart
like a scythe