I fear we are yelling through walls. 

Sweet absolution muffled by plaster and wood.

 Reconciliation lost if we cannot punch through.

The very beat that pushes blood through your veins

reverberates in the floor, and I remove my shoes to

feel closer to you. I would lay there but they will not

let me. This much I know…

For they are carpenters and masons – builders

with bricks and boards and convention. They fear

contact. They fear skin and sweat and understanding.

And so they build…