We don't 
speak
& so our
unspoken
words
retreat,
hanging
in the
air like
dying birds
whose weak
cries go
unheard all
because we
were too
afraid to
share, to stare
into the
abyss within,
let its icy
depths swim
up our necks
& do as those
around us do;
speak, one
syllable first
then another,
hoping they
can handle our
verbs the
way we have
theirs