A Silent Chasm

We are connected by a bond of silence.

Or, if you prefer,

A communicative chasm lies between us.

We attempt to fill that gap with words.
Like spit on a hair, we thread letters together
and shimmy them over the space.

Some of them find their mark.
Tiny daggers piercing the skin
and injecting their poison.
Or balm,
sometimes.

Many of them miss.
No matter. They serve their purpose.
The diminish the acres of emptiness,
minutely.
They are meaningless; it does not matter if
they miss.

The problem comes
when you no longer have the words
to bridge a gap
that truly
gapes.