There is no unit of measure
that can span
the space between my thoughts
and the conversation
that we should have.
I lie here and the weight
of words lies
not on my tongue,
but deep in my thoughts.
I sample each one,
but none fits or befriends my confusion.
The Brownian motion is stilled.
Pressed into deadly inaction.
Where ideas should spin and line up
by natural laws they silt
the sluggish darkened river
and hang suspended, useless,
as time erodes understanding.
Why can I not say the first word ?
Break the dam and let the thoughts flow.
Nothing would be easier,
if conversation would only begin.
The silence screams between us.
Until I stumble and fall
into the abyss of communication.
Caught by the slender supple line
of your vigilance.