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.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
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