Restrictions
We sit facing each other
word-build our friendship
while my hands
that her blindness renders mute
punctuate my words
and my forty three facial muscles
provide no short-cuts.
I stumble on options, spell out
and betray — her, myself, both of us? —
shun body short-hand for a verbal detour
or skip over translating silent tears
disgusted frowns and happy nods.
I mold pieces of me into our common lexicon
funnel gestures and grins into speech
and rely on my vocal cords
to relay reactions and feelings.
The thing is
I watch myself with sharper eyes
when I look for the words
to share word-free expressions.
© Marie-Andrée Auclair