You have made me
lose my language.
The gift that the others gave
when they left.
I don't have them,
but I had words
and that useful set of pondering.

I pondered everywhere.
Each sidewalk more pondered then the next.
Don't mention the bar- I pondered there
until I got home and lay in the mush
of pondering that the air turned into.
I could feel the thoughts on my lips,
sticky like maple syrup
and I could breathe them out like onion.

Once in elementary school we measured
how long a whale would be
if we put it in the gym and it stretched
from outside one door to outside of the other
and this is how large it would be
if it had a shape.
But a shape is too much for something
that doesn't even have a language.

We tried measuring with our fingers
what it is.
First there were two fingers together
and then several inches between us
where you could see the wire table
our feet on the ground
our legs touching.
Then there were two fingers closer
and you couldn't see anything,
but it was there again.
My teeth clenched from the weight of it.

We need a new language.
We're more like bats than whales.