Responding to Silence
Poem
[The message you received has no text]
Perhaps it’s that you can’t go back in time. Perhaps it means to worry. Perhaps it’s holding space, as if there’s a need to confess. Comforting, to think someone else might have the words for it.
Maybe it’s a disappearance, a moment of death. Maybe it’s whatever memory made of myths and ink you erased. Maybe it’s an invisible link to another’s life.
I believe in language, but just as much, I believe in something sudden, the night releasing all its light at once. I believe in someone softening the moon.
I believe it’s your way of saying I’m here without the commitment, that you still give a damn to find speech. It’s a language of shame, an illiterate longing.
It’s relief for those of us who can exist only in silence. It’s waiting for something to last, without being ripped apart,
like we do to words, like we do to people.
