When silence is in your bones
You feel alive, you feel
Like you might die at any moment,
Because really, of course, you might.
You are aware of this flesh, this vibrating,
Moving, breathing, irreplaceable flesh,
Thin and delicate as a strand of baby hair
That might snap, instantly.
When silence is in your bones
You accept this vulnerability,
You embrace it, all your illusions
Of security disintegrate
And you are cleaved open,
You cleave yourself open,
So that the torrent of love that is you
And the torrent of love that made you
Cannot be distinguished.
