my knowledge of silence
derives from desire
that is stuck inside me like a bubble
that can’t be swallowed or thrown up
my voice is a rustling sound that is woven
out of objects and deeds and self-assessment
that are in my house
my knowledge of poetry
derives from being choked and blocked
like a sealed mouth with a slit
that connects and separates the lips
like a tongue loving and asking
to kiss to give birth and to utter
the languages of desire
EN 
MK