Singing in Tongues

Hinipo ng aking dila ang daigdig.

I dream of a language made of sand, a shifting poetry with verses sculpted by the wind and stanzas burnished by the sun.

I touch the world with my tongue.

I dream of a language that speaks to the dead, resurrecting dialogues of buried tongues.

Toco el mundo con la lengua.

I dream of a language composed of silences rather than sounds – if you want to hear me, come closer, closer . . .

Ich berühre die Welt mit meiner Zunge.

I dream of a fierce fiery language spitting fire from tongue to burning tongue.

Je touch le monde avec la langue.

I dream of a tactile language passing sensuous impressions and expressions from body pressed to body, skin kissing skin.

Watashi no shita de sekai o sawaru.

I dream of a nameless language where there is no verb to be, where wild becoming touches wild becoming in an untameable universe.

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