What the Mouth KnowsA Poem by Curly GraceSome write for the eye alone, for ink that settles, still and shown, where meaning waits in quiet rows and rests where silent reading goes. But I have never trusted still, I listen for a deeper will, a hidden pulse beneath the line, a measured breath, a truer time. Not just the word, but how it leaves, the way it bends, the way it breathes, how one sound draws the next in close or breaks the line it should compose. There lives a rhythm under speech, a living beat just out of reach, I track it like a drummer’s ear, the slip, the shift, the almost clear. One syllable can tilt the whole, too dense, and it will choke the soul, too light, and it will drift away without a place to land or stay. So first I form it in the mouth, not born of thought, but carried out, where tongue and teeth and breath align to strike the line or make it shine. I test each phrase on breath and bone, on how it sounds when fully known, a vowel held a heartbeat more, a softened edge, a sharpened core. I do not chase the word alone, I follow what the voice has shown, what lingers after it is said, what hums alive, not lying dead. And when it’s right, it will not stay confined to ink upon the page, it steps beyond, it takes its place, it lives in sound in breath in space
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Added on March 19, 2026Last Updated on March 19, 2026 AuthorCurly GraceAboutSome sparks linger, tender and captivating, leaving us undone. -Curly Grace I'm an Artist by nature. I see the world in a different way than most. I find beauty in everything. Welcome. If you&r.. more.. |

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