Unspoken

 
 
there is a pause in every fingered touch  
a brain in every digit’s probe      
hands are weighed      
and measured in their lightest brush      
and fatter than a word      
with curves and way      
     
can we cut      
our tongues out      
stitch these lips      
and stretch a throat’s heart      
to a distant seagull’s pitch      
     
meet me in these crumpled sheets      
forget the staff      
and bar of quartered notes      
let flesh be stronger      
in its weakest skin      
recalling scales      
of what we never spoke