The Sweetness of Being – Deaf Girl

She listens like a bird,
head cocked to catch the slightest nuance of breath
formed by lips of honeycombed sentences
where she is lost therein
saturated in syrup-like silence.
She doesn’t hear the liquid bell of the Tui
but watches the bob of its boa scarf feathers
and turns to me smiling.
She drinks of the sweetness of being.