Make Believes

The same story
in seven different languages.
She can’t find hers. Where? Could be tucked
deep inside
those accordion folds. But, no,
this could be

his. To pretend

to be mute
at this late date could be
his one last act
before a hunger strike pulls
down the red curtain. Or, no,
that one might be

the one she abandoned
years ago at the roadhouse
now something else altogether.

In Situ

Her nervous system’s high
whine, his circulating blood a low
hum, their silence won’t come
the way they imagined
under these rafters at dawn. This return
to audible reality—a compulsion
to let the breath be known—weighs
on her as she steps off the back
porch. Onto pavers seeping
mud, her feet adjust to the sway. The rain
did not stop, but that wasn’t it.
Her disappearance completes
the arc of narrative
in light better than words.

Ode to Silence

[
  

                                              ]

 [

                                               ]

 [

                                               ]

 [
                                              ]