Not a Word [jake]

Not a word.
Talking to me as if keeping a secret.
I had never seen him with her before,
And I could tell he didn't want to see me—
Avoidant eyes.
Something about it felt wrong from the start,
But I knew not to ask,
So I didn't;
Not one word.
And what plagues my thoughts
Too often escapes my prayers.

[“I don’t talk so great,” Moses said,
“And when they ask, what should I tell ‘em?” Moses said.
You gave him but one word,
And yet I still hear who
YOU ARE]

The funeral procession,
Disguised as a parade:
I felt it marching through me again.
Is it the land that enables such a cavalcade?
Is it the people?
Is it me?
My lips flap as banners celebrating
A homecoming;
But the wind is violent as I am hating
How much I want to be loved
In every word, saying nothing.
Not a word.
Is it any wonder that I bury my head?
I don't want I don't want I want to be heard.


[I know that when they led You, bleeding,
You said nothing,
Not a word.
You said so much.]

I wanted her lips for {my} kiss,
I think. Well,
I want lips to kiss,
I mean. It's immaterial to {me} whose they are.
I suppose that's wrong, but
I don't know how to say it rightly.
I wanted it badly, but
I knew better, so
I didn't say a thing.
I didn’t say a word—
Thank goodness.


[Would You kiss my cracking lips, O God?
They are dry and dying on depleted speech
And snake oil lovers with lips like a leech.]

The internet feels like loneliness;
You’ve been quoting woeful poetry in pensive reflection.
I won't waste my poems on a status update,
But I am sorry about what happened.
(And I didn't think that I would be.)
I wanted to know why, and to ask how you were;
I wanted to,
But I knew better,
So I didn't.
Not a single word
For a suddenly single woman.
I do feel lonely for you,
And I know he should’ve known better.
    (Can modern people
Truly know, truly love, truly speak?—
I say so much and
Not a word says anything.)
We all should love better,
I know; we all should know better.

[God, how can You say so much in one word?
Yahweh,
You say everything.]