The men ask questions, intending
nothing. A light refuses

into the assemblage of floors, ceilings,
clothes. It is all decided: who will answer,

who will appear naked.
Guard uniforms shrive a body's shape.

Sags open in the flesh
and droop; hands sting and deepen

the cell with a drummed series of snaps cascading
through percussive breath.

The room with one light, a room
sounds leave: Hands no longer

hiding anything, feet timing a solidity
that reveals all by that light: Wall. Wall. Wall.

One window with which to receive,
one door from which all has turned to

here and continues turning
here to listen.

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