Dirt

I want to push the words together
to make some words better
than the dirt.

I want to hold your hand in quiet,
that is, without words between us,
and let it out.

I realize that I’m looking,
searching,
for the words,
that are what quiet sounds like,
because that is what it is
to want to push the words together
to make some words better
than the dirt,
to want to hang a name on the sky,
and invent a new color for the stars at one a.m.,
to want to find some words that are as good
as what we can understand without them.

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