She sits, unmoving, while I experiment,
Grunting, squeaking in my own chair.
Nothing,
Not words, not meaning,
Escapes my world.
I’ve seen this work
Like some magic,
When anything from love to fury
Seems to pass between closed orbits.
But nothing passes from me.
No connection, just mad, inchoate
Nothing.
I’m crying.
She moves her head, glances at me.
Something!
exiles child 