Words Between
You will say something mundane
then a sudden potency
will scratch my skin.
I mention an ordinary thing
and you show me where
my words
are fine silk or a brief abrasion.
An invisible tissue
connects a common language
into questing passions.
I imagine the tympanic bones
of our ears as they converse,
the contrary vibrations
form chess pieces
that tango briefly in our eyes.
You say an odd thing
which I cannot translate.
I comment upon something
you have no knowledge of.
In-between the words
campfires burst into flame.
Meanwhile the passion
keeps pouring the heat of sight
into synaptic junctions.
What we see is a haunting
of words not said,
there’s only this deep listening
in the clamoring flesh.
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