I love the small sounds of pleasure
people make when taking the first
sip of coffee, or when sitting, at last,
after standing for hours. That soft
hum of delight that escapes the lips
when someone presses a thumb
into the arch of our foot and makes
small circles on the sole. That sigh
that flies out when we step into shade
on a relentlessly sunny day. Bless these
moments when the mind can’t outbrain
the animal living inside us, when
our untamed self slips through the cage
of decorum and groans or purrs
or moans or gasps and reminds us
that beneath all our fancy syntax
and pretty words, we’re creatures.
Every triumphant roar and ecstatic howl
is proof of our common primitive tongue.
Fluent in human, we praise in squeals,
blissful giggles, grateful throaty grunts.