Thursday, May 18, 2023


If all I crave 
on Earth
is muteness, 

am I spoiling it 
by telling you? 

And does speaking 
of silence 
compel me 

to destroy it? If so,
This must 
be hell: where 

the only way 
to tell 
of our feelings

is to leave them—
to recoil—to move 
away completely. 

But maybe,
such a sacrifice 

is the key 
to this cell; 
after all, 

even the smallest 
of motions

might be replete 
with significance,

if heaven's 
lingua franca 

isn't silence—
but stillness.