Hand Dance

Fri, 05/18/2018 - 04:16 -- Tlando

When I was young
I could not hear
I would stand there and wail
screech like a banshee
Ahhhhhh,for food
Ahhhhhh,for drink

Then language dripped into
my fingertips
The intricate dance of hands
Words with no lips

I don’t remember when I could not hear
All I know is noise
and

Now the world is
whispered lies
Drunk men shouting on street corners
Dogs yapping and
voices leaden with sarcasm

I don’t miss my deafness
but somehow in the process of gaining my hearing
I feel like I’ve lost something else

This poem is about: 
Me

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