Home » Poetry » Day 133 – The Inquisition

Day 133 – The Inquisition

The man was trying, but I couldn’t understand.
I shouted louder, but he stayed still.
I beat my fist on the wall, got very quiet.
The man was trying to tell me, but I couldn’t hear.

We lay down and I whispered,
repeated lines of questions softer now-
his eyes said fire
and then said water
and I said it was okay.

But home nights in my calculating cave
I prepared new techniques
to draw out the words
that he was trying to say,
that I already knew-
the words that I wanted were true,
the words that I feared were true,
but that until more clearly spit
I wouldn’t believe.

It wasn’t me who sewed his lips,
it wasn’t him who stuffed my ears,
but it was we who locked the door,
we who continue the war

and we who’ll die without ever
communicating
a single word.

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