not yet classified as flight they are free from the talons of The Label
the deep set weight, the pressure is building and this one is not to be jumped off of, this one has a metallic structure only constructible
in a pitch-canvas tent were the absence of vibrations are the playdough of the welder-gods
and the outcome is something no hijacked plane can ever crash into
The muffled echoing of snow
under a static blanket
the absence of sound is not silence but rather something akin to death. silence is the presence of the pure,
white and black light meeting in the embrace of joy screams,
without noise we are rendered visible to all,
our perceptions a changeling no longer willing to live without the birthmother, returning home it shall find the silence,
silence of a horses hooves on the bones of it’s master,
the travelers son no longer wants to be the calling boy, he has left and will not return, he goes in silence and leaves behind…the absence of sound.
within our silence is held all the noises that were not made, not yet uttered, all the meaning that we meant, floating,
our lips our sense our vocal chords
straining, can we reach the language of the divine and return to tell the tale in the tongue of the masses,
let us communicate under the excruciatingly inadequate noun.
write about a silence.