I speak in code
a cleverly constructed combination
of white words and black pauses
hiding among the colors I can’t control.
My focus fractures and my message meanders,
waylaid by specters of previous
mistaken miscommunication;
and my code shrinks and deepens,
becoming less apparent and more permanent,
until I’m sure you won’t understand.
And I keep speaking in code,
writing messages only for myself
because they make me feel special.
I never suspect you’d do the same.
I would speak plainly,
without distortion or degradation or defense,
but I’ve forgotten how, if I ever even knew.
I speak in code
animated by the permanent pressing possibility
that someone might hear,
someone speaking the same coded language.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment