Your Lips Were My Favorite Language

A cycle of poems «You Taught My Hands How to Pray on Your Body»

I used to know every word that you’d say,
Not from the meaning - but the way it would play.
The curve of a smile, the hush before sound -
In your voice, I found holy ground.

You never had to speak in perfect prose,
A sigh or a laugh could calm all my woes.
But now that you’re gone, there’s no dialect here -
Just silence too heavy for tears.

Your lips were my favorite language,
A tongue I could feel without distance or danger.
Every kiss was a sentence I longed to believe,
Every whisper a truth I could finally receive.
Now I’m mute in a world where no one speaks true…
Nothing sounds like I need - except missing you.

We talked in glances on crowded train rides,
Translated by touch when we tucked in at night.
You’d hum little tunes when you thought I wasn’t near -
But I memorized each one, year after year.
And when words failed us, we’d just breathe side by side…
Two souls writing love with no need to confide.

You never had to speak in perfect prose,
A sigh or a laugh could calm all my woes.
But now that you’re gone, there’s no dialect here -
Just silence too heavy for tears.

Your lips were my favorite language,
A tongue I could feel without distance or danger.
Every kiss was a sentence I longed to believe,
Every whisper a truth I could finally receive.
Now I’m mute in a world where no one speaks true…
Nothing sounds like I need - except missing you.

I pass by the caf; where you said, "Stay,"
Where rain hit the glass like words swept away.
I order your drink just to hear them call out -
But the name on the cup isn’t yours, and I doubt
That anyone since has ever known how…
To say "I love you" without even a sound.

They say grief has stages, but none name this part -
When every accent feels wrong from the start.
I’ve learned other voices, polite and sincere…
But none kiss the air like you whispered in my ear.

So let the world chatter in grammar and rhyme -
I’ll wait in the quiet for echoes of time.
No dictionary holds what our silence begun…
Your lips were my favorite language - and you were the only one.