Silence Still Howls

The silence here is suffocating.

No one else can hear the ghost of your words

No one else can feel the specter of your voice

As we clasp our hands around each others' throats and scream for the morning

The moment the darkness touches the sky

Tick tock, tick tock, tick, tick, tick

It's 4 am

And every moment of our lives is marked by the briefest sound

And in the numbness our fingers tingle pleasingly

amusingly, satisfyingly, enjoyably

And the clock still ticks to the racing of our hearts

The stars burn bright outside

And the fires are raging within

Lit by the stellar reflections on the shard if glass wedged inside your atrium

Like the late night early morning conversations you have with yourself are caught in the spider web called Hope

Hope, which catches our winged dreams

The rain pours but the umbrella is broken

And tossed aside to be found by a desperate tramp

And we savor this rare rain walk

But underneath our coats we twist each others' arms and whisper for morning

The moment the rain kisses our skin