mayday poem 2

i'm listening to what you are saying, can't you hear me?

but, i read your hands before i hear any words

sometimes, your hands move so slowly

so i might begin to speak with your eyes

i think that when i near your mouth i begin to hear it speaking sounds

strange to think that we depend on sounds which come from so cavernous a place in the body

causing us to distrust our eyes and hands which are ever in our sight