A poem for National Poetry Day

This is my language, the language of poets.
That is to say, this is the language
in which I speak with You.
Only you understand the visceral dialect
that gurgles up from the deepest place.
Only You have words that respond
in like vein and communicate
before they are understood.
This is our language,
in which we converse,
and I am content
to know and be known.

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