The ruse.

Language is wrecklessly close to nothing at all.

Its replacement with more careful inspection,

Love,

Divulges itself with grand spills to disorient

The speakers, hearers

Translators. Love:

Running from the chin

Cracking the teeth,

Melting the tongue as it jerks on the weight of

Peeking adventure.

Is

Unstoppable,

Or who would?

You get it?