Two-headed Poem

(To explain the title, love, I once read that when writing a poem, it can emerge as two intertwined poems, and you must then work to separate them from each other. I haven't actually experienced this phenomenon much, there have been a couple cases, but this is the first that seemed distinctly so. As it is, I decided that I'd break that rule, I'd let this poem stay siamese-twin, and try to further twist and weave it, and so I did; what you shall read presently, is two-headed, dualistic, two concepts in my head right now that seem to play off of each other, separate but entirely related.)








I.
Mmm,

The complexities of language, 

Crashing waves beneath floating papers, 

Cobwebs and spindly plants.

II.

The refinement of her expressions,

Intricate and infinite; 

A testament that everything communicates; 

It is we who must choose to listen.

III.

Looking beyond, between, underneath, 

All of the winding tendrils around written words, how wondrous, 

More wondrous still, how you can nearly read her thoughts 

from the positioning of her eyebrows and ears. 

IV.

They all have different voices, 

You know, 

Mountain peak and ocean depth, 

Short bark and long drawl, lilting or singsong. 

And their voices are no different, loud quiet infinite--

Like ours