Talk

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.