My tongue, my language!
I have gifts from life, all people have. One of them is valuable, elaborate and complex, twined and tangled as a ball of string that a kitten just played with. Whenever I desire I may use it, ecstatic at the fluttering words that bounce off my lips, like little butterflies emerging from numerous cocoons. This is my language, but why, why, why? I know many do not have this gift of speech. I know it is different, but I understand that in its many forms it is one. Only one thing I don't comprehend. What is this one meaning? The true meaning, so simple, yet so unexplainable and difficult to un…
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