on sharing a jail cell with a stranger

Seven hours
and
we never
even
looked at
each
other.

Through my
periphery,
I memorized
the waffle-fabriced
plaid
shirt
he was
wearing
with its
cream
being
interposed by
maroon and
mint green
streets.

I noticed
the way
he preferred to
hold or
stretch
his legs,
and I marked
only 3
sighs.

We each
stared ahead
at our
_blank_
stretches of
wall,
and our
cryptic
kaleid.osc.ope
(ey)(es)
projected
onto those
walls
{hazy} scenes of
stars
being framed by
nothing.

Cinder block
serenades
were vibrating
all around
us,
and keys
chimed and
bars whirred
and the cacophony
of
solitude
crept up my
neck
and pressed its
silvered
speech up
against
my eardrums.

My once
cr.is.p
tongue
felt hollow
and unheeded,
and my heart felt
like
a hurricane.

There were
birds
outside
singing–there had
to be.

Heartbeat silence
pounded
on;

I just knew
there had
to be
singing
somewhere else
outside of
this
place.