A sentence begins with a lie
The common language already
Filled with duality, an imperfect means
Of understanding, semi-true literacy
Of our unity, the loneliness of
The liar endures, like false-love
A poem can be torn up
Never read again, but
The innovocation has already been set
Words of anger, cannot be taken back
Words, infiltrate our blood
With cortisol and neurochemicals
A sentence begins with a pause
For the heart’s twisting dials
There is no technology of silence
Only rituals of communication
Etiquette of what was not said –
The blurring terms of our inadequacy
At connecting, our inability to hear
Words in the music of our faces
The blueprint lost of our authentic sameness.
Wuji Seshat 
Now this is just beautiful! So true, too. Well done.
I’m glad you saw some beauty in it…
Beautifully written, it is true communication.
so true Wuji – the Indian sage Meher Baba enforced on himself the fast of SILENCE – for 30 years, never speaking – gandhi too had days on which he never spoke – silence can indeed be golden – thanks
You are picking up a thread of truth here, in these last two poems…and that thread is moving by itself to weave magic in the lives of your readers. Trust me!
That’s a wonderful review! Thanks