The Heart’s Tongue

You changed me, they said,
As they knew you would,
But not perhaps in the way
They might have thought.
I suppose it was their view
That I’d shed the voice they knew,
The one I’ve always spoken with.
It was feared that maybe,
With every passionate kiss
You’d steal away my tongue
Bit by bit, and I’d speak in a way
That no one would recognise,
That I would undergo a rebirth
Brought on by this change.
You didn’t, though. If anything
Your love preserved me as I was
And yet renewed me. I still spoke
In my old tongue just fine,
But together, when we kissed,
We’d create another shared one –
Our heart’s tongue, our love language,
The communication exclusive
To us alone, that only we knew,
And no one else could have.