Look at me, With my unfolded tongue. How it Reaches for and speaks its truth, Even when my lips do nothing but stay shook. Look at you, With your resilient back. How you arch it this way and that way, To milk of stories of a hardened past. Look at her, With her flimsy heart. How it loves almost to a fault, Until there are parts of her she forgets. Look at me, With my intense love. How I lift silences of my beloved's tongue, And build two storey homes in their eyes. Look at you, With your tender hands. How they trade in nothing but hope, And speak no language other than giving. Look at her, With her mothers soft. How easy it is for her to wear her words, And drown revolu...

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