murdered by silence
Imagine
they tell you
you may go deaf
by age thirty-eight
if things progress
as they have
the last four years.
You can learn
to sign. You can’t force
others to learn to sign.
How do you
check out at the store?
Go to school?
Teach?
Imagine
a world of no music
no laughter
no speaking soft
amidst the flesh
of two bodies entwined.
A world of doors
closing in your face,
a world of dreams
murdered by silence.
Friday, July 14, 2006
today is a gift
I had kept the wine
- a half bottle sealed -
to remind me
of the last time.
Looking back,
you knew it, that
it would be the last?
You planned it;
how you touched
complete, sweet
binding my body
to you and how
you let me linger
late into the eve.
You laughed pure
joy when you came
as always seeming
endless as I gazed
on in wonder.
I can still hear your
faint smiling spasms,
a thing of bliss
my deafness
will never erase.
That one night finally
I slept at ease and
morning came so soon.
I reached for more
as always I craved...
but you rose swift.
I thought nothing of it.
You showered long
and I held your cider
ready then watched
as you walked
barefoot across grass
away from me
Crave not your
sweet heart? body?
If life were not
so precious, Ra
I never would have
said hello anyway...
in the first place?
But today is a gift.
and those yesterdays
of you were my heaven.
you would know them
devastation and despair...
you would know them
when the numbness comes
even when never having been
suicidal (even now in the silence)
you would welcome death
open armed like a lover.
