Saturday, March 6, 2010

Somethings

Somethings are meant to be heard.  Words that slip.  Sidle, heavy and expectant- effulgent.  Wet.  Weighty words hold meaning- I love you.  Goodbye.  Baby cry- lullaby.  Symbolic syllables, shape-shift, slide;  stretch their meaning across the vastness: one mouth to millions, to one, to none.  Sounds that fill the Void with their own emptiness and reverberate.  Echo.

Somethings are meant to be heard.  I love you.  Goodbye.  A baby cry- lullaby: falling on deaf ears: holds no weight, no measure, bears no story of it's own.  My story unfolds, unfurls; finds itself caught in your ear, tumbling, polishing: a murmur, a roar, an enchantment.  Ocean roils, empty-vast-void, mistaken moments.

Somethings are meant to be heard.  Baby cry-lullaby.  I love you.  Goodbye.

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