And then there was the time

Long before language, when moonlight kissed the earth each green and lushy night, there were no words per se or even the mouths to say them. Back then there were places for everything to be, and everything knew it. Trees and rocks, the moon itself. Not like now, where we do have words but still, people crack each other open like eggs, fragile and gooey inside, but not a sign of a brain anywhere, and all the words flying out of all the mouths get caught in the trees, which all
this time has had sense enough not to move.