thin ice

now when i talk
to you
i even write
with  my hands
behind my back


i hold my breath
to let it out
before i speak
lest i should be
too heavy on the ice

and you
how do you feel
when you want to
let words run to me
are you afraid?
because i am.

missing your voice
or you mine,
one gagged
and floating,
the other hands
with fingers pressed
white behind his soul