Stifled by his word,

I seem to recall a coarse cast

approached in bitter tongue.

 

Why is it I cannot see?

Where has this particle

lain itself lonely?

 

Does it not merit approach?

 

These depths have been dug

many centuries over.

 

Why have we not found the bottom?

Why aren't we searching for the top?

 

I do not long to battle with 

his or his counters’ voice any longer.

These notes transcribed 

by the lowly one,

do not serve as a gate

well enough fortified.

 

Though I know he sees me

standing in the darkness —

I cannot tell if it’s me,

or if he is smiling.