“Now we talk / about everything incessantly, / our moans and grunts turned on a spit / into warm vowels and elegant consonants. / We say plethora, demitasse, ozone and love. / We think we know what each sound means. / There are times when something so joyous / or so horrible happens our only response / is an intake of breath, and then we’re back at the truth of it” — Dorianne Laux