Naming

　　 by Nancy Mairs

　　 Let me tell you this once

　　 （I will not be able to say it again）：

　　 I have lost the meaning of words.

　　 Heavy， they ripped away from the sounds，

　　 fell into cracked ground. For weeks

　　 I scratched but what I dug up was

　　 bicycle spokes， black melon rinds，

　　 a smashed doll face--it was not meaning.

　　 I don't know what I am saying.

　　 I exaggerate. Not everything is gone.

　　 I still know perfectly what sugar means，

　　 and pine needle. Laughter is more

　　 of a problem. And yellow often slides，

　　 a plate of butter in the sun.

　　 The meaning of flower has gone entirely；

　　 so has the meaning of love. Now it is safe

　　 to say： I love you. Now it is true