Take the words I’ve said
In regard my intent
You get to re-invent
What I thought I’d meant
Mental landscapes are shaped by these
Shifting fictional territories
Synapse make maps from the sounds we’ve found
To draw a linguistic common ground
A cartography of typography
That refuses to stand steady
These towns of nouns
Where faces may change
But the place names remain the same
Addicted to our diction
Our vowels and consonants
In a constant flux
Creates a cognitive dissonance
Set sail for new consonance
In a vow of silence
You can’t see the world
Outside of these terms, these cursed words
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