It has been some time
and he has said nothing
though our mouths are close to touching
and have sometimes touched
and though I hear
his lungs intake each breath
I still do not know him.
Though I turn to look at his eyes
I can’t tell where they’re gazing:
at me, through me, to another time
and in an unfiltered moment I whisper in his skin
I cannot read your face
and see a smile form
for what he isn’t saying.
is a PhD student investigating how background noise impacts speech understanding. Alex has poems and translations appearing in Magma, Dreich, Olit, Berlin Lit, and Modern Poetry in Translation among others, and is working on a narrative chapbook. Alex is also a Poetry Reader for Kitchen Table Quarterly. Alex currently lives in York, UK, and can be found at amepham.carrd.co