You say to me the words said only to own children.
You say them tenderly, or in a slighting tone -- the way
You speak to no one else. Your voice is deaf, your eyes evade
My eyes, or penetrate through all my hymens, hidden.
Your words are mute -- despair breaks through the awkward gestures
Of broken vowels. Stares are blind and know me by the touch.
You say to me the trifling words that are too soft or tough --
The numbing words -- and fill me, feel me with your gazes.