Is the asking
more important than the question? What if
you forget to raise your voice
at the end of the sentence, like
a heavy kite tail, over-tied with ribbons,
no wind in the meadow?
If you had only asked me, if I
had only said, Is this a question?
Instead, the statement sat on the table
between us, a tiny, tarnished
trophy, both sets of our hands on its base.
What does the plaque say? Who wins
this award?
Just ask me.
And if I say yes, or nod, I will still
ask you to repeat the question. I like
the tones in your throat, the threads you
string the words on, and saying things
over makes them real.
Say it again.
Ask me.
I can’t even think
of the letters that spell
no when I hear your voice.