Maybe he likes to be
listened to by the deaf girl,

the way she watches
each word begin deep

beneath his facial muscles
before it even becomes

a thought. He likes to see
her turn her entire body

toward him, square her
shoulders as though

she’s about to listen with her heart.
When she’s ready, she lets him know

he has her full attention. She’s
focused. She takes a breath.

She lets him know she’s
ready to have this conversation,

just as an astronaut is ready
to step onto the moon

or a cloud is ready
to burst open with attentive rain

and he’s forgotten what he
wants to say but wants so badly

to move his lips.


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