we write them
poems and letters and books

and shrug it off
as ordinary and unimportant

when really
these words are the most precious
thing we could ever give

they’re simple
but powerful and overwhelming

they come out easy

but never can the reader
whom all these pieces are for and about
understand the depth from which
these letters sprouted from

unless they were writers themselves;
unless their tongues, too,
were tied their whole lives
and the only thing that could untangle it
is the union of pen and paper