I post stones down the sink
One for yes
Two for no
We have talked like this for three years
It is enough
He still has words
He asks questions through the pipes
Is it safe
Two stones
Is it safe
Two stones
Is it ever safe
Two stones
I wonder what he does with my answers
There must be lots of stones
Down the pipes
In the sink
In his hands
If I said yes
The water might flow again
I pick up stones
Every time I leave
Careful of time
Of streets
I make sure I see her
Two candles burn at her feet
The other waits
I dip my finger in the cool water
I am hurried
It splashes my face not my head
I see her son pointing at his chest
The holes
don’t go don’t go
I know you are here
I always go
I always seek the stain
I get the green paper
The treasure which moves me from no
There are words
Black words
I wonder if the black words are the last words
But that is too big
The stones cannot answer the question I wait for him to ask.
