My Vocabulary Did this to Me: The Collected Poetry of Jack Spicer | 
“Sex is an ache of mouth. The
Squeak our bodies make
When they rub mouths against each other
Trying to talk.
Like silent little children we embrace,
Aching together.
And love is emptiness of ear. As cure
we put a face against our ear
And listen to it as we would a shell,
Soothed by its roar.
We find the body difficult, and speak
Across its wall like strangers.“
Remembering Jack Spicer on his birthday.
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