We talk through cages.
We gesticulate wildly
when at a distance,
and sometimes hands clasp
when close enough.
We build citadels
out of words
till the air turns viscous
and we are simply
the blank spaces
on which signs
are written and erased.
We take to howls
but they are misconstrued.
When we finally learn
to speak with our eyes,
they lock in silent prayer
as if the other
were the jailor
and held the key.
