There   i s
beau tiful
trans-par-
e ncy    in
o u r   un-
s  po ke n
w o r d  s,
no embellished perfection, rather simple contented silence, a deriv-
ative  of  unhappy  places  where spoken words were  once  severing
w e a p o n s,
  a n d  a n y 
  h o p e  o f  
recon- cili-
a t i o n   a
a  c r u c i-
f i x  beam
stret- ched
a   c r o s s
our  backs,
the weight
o f  w h a t
n  e  a r l y
killed    us.