Tuesday, June 16, 2015


I see a lingering doubt
in his eyes before 
he knocks on the door,
flirting with the boundaries
of his language, his words 
undo him

He hesitates, a perennial
call for rescue slanting 
across his body, a writing 
where he does not belong, 
no one comes to 
tease meaning from 
his mumbled phrases

I hazard guesses as if 
playing a game of 
darts but the arrows 
never hit home, perhaps
the target was as 
thin as air, his 
unseen in my 

How can banal words
be lost in translation?