These best ever days, south of 11 pm


Then comes the silence.

It is a dolphin silence,

a pearling pod brimming with chimes of words that need not be said aloud

a tsunami of champagne in a frosting glass tilting as the poles reverse direction slowly without warning anyone of the coming magnet crisis.

Then comes the sickly pregnant silence.

Cheeks altogether too rosy, they melt when butter yawns to rise in the east;

a silent heart too bright with things to come and things already loved regardless of their lack of ever having earned it.

This kiss of bubbly birthday cake slays the lamb before the cream has flowed into the milk-teeth baby:

It is a goodbye chocolate kiss

that tickles deaf ears

with its ruby matte lipstick.

Then comes forever

A desert of silence, too infinite to cross, too fatal to fall to the knees in despair

Sweet silken sand runs between my fingers, gone.

The milk and honey growls within my flesh, taunting me as I am starved out by the silence.

window sunset Oregon

(Above image taken by Anne Seaworthy at Linfield College in McMinnville, Oregon, USA.)


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