I speak hoppingly on
the hopscotch of my heart and
the words knock together like
dice in the player’s hand
barricade of legs and folded arms
I am the crucible of lonely voices
I am the cage of gods who
sleep in the depths of language
the back of deletions
the other side of the text
the last home spells know
I am the empty envelope that travels
looking for the message
that an unknown recipient
hides in its memory