The Words We Carry With Us

Isabel Savine

bury themselves in stories 
Beg to be written 
Patiently wait to be spoken into existence 
never fearing the common fate of other words not spoken

Your melodies attached to language that 
punctuate my childhood 
Separating out the days of magic and 
the days of you

If she was Harry Potter on school nights 
and weekend mornings
then you were commercials that jarringly wove themselves 
in between colorful cartoon worlds on the tv screen

The words I carry with me 
are those that you spoke as I pretended not to hear
Whether to break or to construct
I carry your words in the narrative to be seen

The words you carry with you
are words I will never understand
Other-worldly words of instruction
The language of Jazz, of the Greats

The words you carry with you are
of Chet Baker, of Miles Davis
Of your father and your father’s father
Words I can never carry with me

Words too vast to understand
Constrained by my own experiences
and by the privilege of what I cannot know
about the death of a brother

The words I carry with me are somber
are tiptoeing around the point as to not disturb
the ornamental fixture of a functional family
Words charged by the ghosts of words undeclared

                The Words We Carry With Us
will die unspoken and unseen.