There is no speaking yet.
The other person has not arrived.
The head already knows
what it should say.
The eyes are looking for contact.
The neck prepares the voice.
The jaw holds the first sentence.
The face already knows
what expression it should wear.
The body is still before speech.
The sitting bones touch the chair.
The feet touch the ground.
The pelvis does not need to be ready.
It is enough
that it has somewhere to be.
The conversation does not need to begin from above.
The eyes do not need to carry it.
The neck does not need to hold it.
The feet remain below.
The seat remains beneath the body.
The pelvis slowly becomes
support for the conversation.
There is no need to feel something.
There is no need to calm down.
There is no need to be ready.
A small moment is enough,
in which the organism realizes
that it can speak from lower support.
Silence is not filled.
Silence holds the threshold.
The eyes may soften for a moment.
The neck may stop carrying the whole contact.
Breath can continue without adjustment.
Weight may settle a little lower.
Then the first sentences come.
Not as performance.
Not as an answer to pressure.
Not as an effort to be clear,
kind,
precise,
interesting,
or all right.
Only as speech
that has somewhere to come from.
The person speaks.
And somewhere beneath the words,
the seat remains.
Feet.
Pelvis.
Space.
The conversation then does not need to happen
only in the head.
It can have a body.