Plants

Ever listen to the trees? You can tell us—no judgment. Plants can communicate you know—just not in the ways we're used to. Fragrant smells can attract pollinators, while bright colors might warn off predators.

This poem kicks that idea into overdrive by piling another layer of metaphor on top of the idea that the speaker's language is her "tongue." In the third stanza, that tongue becomes a plant. So, if you're scoring at home, language = tongue = plant. It's a tricky poetic layer cake, with the idea of language at its base. Mmm, cake…

• Lines 31-34: After our speaker's symbolic tongue falls out, we get some good news: it's growing back. More specifically, it's growing back as a plant might, starting as a small shoot then getting longer and stronger until it chokes out the foreign tongue and "ties [it] in knots" (33). It even starts to bud, suggesting that flowers are coming soon. Tongue-vine for the win.
• Lines 37-38: The tongue-vine blossoms at the end of the poem, a powerful symbol of the life and energy that comes form the speaker's native language. Of course, all this happens in a dream, but hey—it's a good dream, right?