The paper flowers on the wall say otherwise because I see them

The hands of him are off of him and lined up against the tiles on the wall

They fall and the palms have nothing to catch

The rest of him is over here

He cannot cover his ears************

so I breathe low and smooth over what I think I should do

His eyes are shut like a clam

His skin is the foam of a chopped sea

His hair is a spilt ink well

I pay attention to him and his hands lain limp at his sides

The absence of my eyes might kill him

which might explain why i can't look away

There was a sudden violence here

followed by the cold cascade of fear

I felt it through the walls and saw it through the window

The machine malfunctioned

The misstep the misguide

He's too far off the path

now he's taken me there too

In the large room with the walls stacked high

and the dry air and the smell of paper

It isn't cold

but his lip shakes

It isn't hot

but sweat drips down the rest of him

I kiss his chin

but it doesn't make anything better