“The back, the yoke, the yardage, lapped seams, / The nearly invisible stitches along the collar.” – Robert Pinsky, “Shirt”
The wrinkles of paper when water is spilled on it. The raised splotches of rain on a newspaper. The dark tan circle of a coffee mug stain on a manuscript, the curls of the circle lapping at words hungry for meaning, words spilling their letters across a page of cheap type. The voice can say its truth or its lies. The words only make the sounds.