I adore how each word represents itself
in the congress of language.
It stands up, demands,
cajoles, thunders. It makes itself
known. I wish I’d been born
a word instead of…this.
Had I been born a word myself
instead of one enslaved to them,
I might have been more secure
when I spoke, could have gestured
at myself in many situations
and just said…”this.”
I might have been enough
had I been born a word
instead of fumbling among them,
seeking to put the best of them
in the best order, hoping
to say something that validated me.