the walls that contain this world
smooth, expressionless
stark
cliff faces voices of water
pour from the shells of your throats

sounds find me
on the inside
decanting incantations
from the solitude
of my beatless heart
crafting meaning
from the noises you make

in my murky den
colors don’t exist until invented
and my shattered legs can’t ache
until I let them
every crack and hinge
caked in fronds and moss
to trap the outside sun