Your Word

Your word is only a sound you make,
a physical thing
it seems
     an involuntary response
          to some distant stimulus
chord vibrations that are pleasing
some center of your throat
in your cat-ness
     purring

for it has no connection
to what is here,
right now, in front of us,
was it even an interaction,
your reaction
to what I said,
cognizant of my sound
but not my thoughts?

Random follow-ups
put you in some distant place,
transported
or perhaps you were never here
to begin
this sin
of pretending to understand.


©Eusebeia Philos 2013