Languor

What is more languorous than language itself
when it declines to hurry, finds sound way
to laze in the realm of sugared torpor,
coiled as golden serpent of assent

yes, as we say now, what is, is, but tongue
forks itself along such myriad paths 
simultaneously, dizzyingly
dissecting the marvel  that languor was

I am the subject of my own speaking
that rules me with a fierce indifference
and takes me where it will and makes of me
but capricious semblance of myself

ah, lost languor, this intimate splendor
always to be uncovered, recovered




This was first published on July 28, 2023, the second poem in the series.