When you dam your words

From my ear

Do they surf upon dust motes

Dead leaves and exhaust 

Sunshine and humidity

And eke through 

cracks in windows and doors

To present themselves

to my skin

Do I absorb them

Like a dying woman 

Does water

Are they the reason

I still walk

Still drink

Still breathe

Even with 

a spirit on mute

Or do they rest upon

My chest,

Weighting each breath,

For a death that beds 

The rest of my days