if I slide my tongue
between the slats
it will be sliced off
in silent precision
and I will drown in
the bloodied words
I want to speak
there is no space
for what I need
to say to you
a half-step right
a wall
a half-step left
a wall
in front
behind
a wall
the ends bend
my head to my feet
as if in supplication
no sound escapes except
the slow grinding
between my teeth
of any truths
I could say to you
and my troubled
heart’s desire
(May 18, 2014)
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