In Other Words
Desembocar: to take
the mouth out,
to make wordless.
As in you ripped
the mouth out of me.
Peeled away my lips, loosened
and unhinged my every
tooth, severed and wrenched
my tongue until not even
its heavy, muscular base
remained.
This is what I wanted
it to mean.
But not so violent, see.
More like you took
the words from me.
I had no need for words
or I swallowed them—
they were useless.
Meaning slid away from each
and every attempt at stringing
the pieces of language together.
You took
the mouth out of me.
But that’s not it at all.
It has its own meaning.
To flow, to lead to, to culminate.
If you follow
this road, this river, this line of thought,
you somehow arrive in a new place—
You are in the mouth of
something new.
Marina Hope Wilson’s poems have appeared in small-press journals, including Coconut, La Petite Zine, MiPoesias and FourW. She lives in Brooklyn.
qarrtsiluni 
Really like the play with the word “mouth” here — relished the ferociousness of the poem as well as its wit.
I love this! A terrific etymological expedition que nos lleva a explorar las variantes algo violentas de otras corrientes, otros cauces, para finalmente desembocarse como comunmente se entiende pero ahora con nuevas perspectivas: the mouth of something new.