My Love I Love to Listen

I love the way your tongue limps over consonants
But lingers idly on some
Is it linguistics that makes your love
Holy
Is there a cathedral behind your lips
That no one can see
Is it the Irish Sea I hear in your whisper
Come closer
Let’s get lost in translation and I’ll taste what I can’t understand
The details just don’t matter
I heard love
That L that limps forward on your palate like the
Liffey limps toward Dublin Bay
The O that’s as soft and hollow as the
Crypts at Clonmacnoise
The V that vibrates on your lips like the tender hum of
Spirits ten thousand years old
And an E
As silent as the fields of Athenry
Sweet sound, let me swallow your meaning
And I’ll never starve again