alien sonata
(hard contact)
how they will speak
when they come
with organs separate, sentient, perhaps contentious
what with no tongue to utter words
to bring dètente their warring parts
divided, asymmetric pseudopods
how they will tell us of their importance
in ritual gelatinous slam-dances against our four walls
splattering a dialect of gravity, crushing our delight
their gills rusting in oxygen, they gasp
singing from out the funnel of eyes
cold, black
unseeing our X-ray dying
these unsounds they make we listen
. . . nothing
our bodies heed, minds deceive
so tongue we utter, in lieu of understanding
sounds we share, vibratory
noisy
listening to violent silence