Listen

There is a knocking in the skull,

An endless silent

Of something beating on a wall,

And crying, “Let me out!”That solitary

Will never hear reply.

No comrade in

Can hear the frantic cry.

No heart can share the

That haunts his monstrous dark.

The light that filters through the

No other eye can mark.

When flesh is linked with eager flesh,

And words run warm and full,

I think that he is loneliest then,

The captive in the skull.

Caught in a mesh of living veins,

In cell of padded bone,

He loneliest is when he

That he is not alone.

We’d free the incarcerate race of

That such a doom

Could only you unlock my skull,

Or I creep into yours.