Coming to This

I empty myself of my hands
my hands & what they touched they
hold nothing
anyway

I empty
myself of light
I am blind as a cowbell
tolling in the rain

I drive out my voice
& it comes back whimpering
tail between its legs

I spit out my tongue it
tastes only inquiry swallows
only longing

my name
I bury
in the ashes of my ears
I never heard it anyway

the cur voice I beat
into silence

until all that remains
murmurs like a heartbeat
until all that is left
is wanting

~Sam Hamill