A Deathly Silence
A poem
Published in
Jun 3, 2024
In the hushed apartment
silence descends
like a heavy curtain.
I wake to its weight,
the muffled tread of my thoughts.
Something haunts the hallway.
I rise, following
the scent of iron,
the thump of my blood.
The kitchen light casts
a sickly glow.
Dishes soaking, cups stained.
On the table
a lined notebook lies open.
A red fingerprint smears the pages
I read the spindrift script:
“Saltiness on my tongue.
The feast is never done.”
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