untitled poem by Bob MacKenzie The words are not the same, and yet, they are somehow the same words we have used so many times Before we found our way of using words alone as meanings slipped away from us, we talked The words together meaning what we together decided and yet, they were somehow not what we meant at all To say in that brief space and time in those few words all there was we had to say was not the same Message after message passed between us in silent codes after the words had passed beyond our comprehension Of the words and meanings we created ourselves, the words alone and meanings separate, we too grew apart in silence |