Fingering a Severed Rhapsody

Listen.
I’m deaf.
I can’t hear you.

Use your hands
to Speak to me.

He tilts his head
… curiously.

I Hear

Fingers humming
a familiar melody.
Letters nestle in my nape.

Fingers strumming
an eloquent lie.
Consonants cascade over my shoulders.

Fingers fiddling
a frisky ditty.
Verbs cavort under my breast.

Fingers contracting
a prattling pledge.
Hyperboles tangle my hair.

Fingers fingering
a severed rhapsody down my spine.
Syllables punc-tu-ate my hips.

Fingers contorting
a guttural crescendo.
Contractions spasm through my mother tongue.

A promise dribbles down my thigh
like a beaten egg,
raw
runny
rueful.

Fingers skipping
a silent stone
across the pooling beneath my knee.

I’m deaf.
I can’t hear you.
Say it again.

He cracks his knuckles.