2/21/2010

The Things You Never Said

Your voice, the rain,
the thunder, a black weed
in the ear. To grow
silent is to be hidden.

Where are you now at 2 a.m.?
Lying in your box, your tongue
injected with lidocaine,
numb and useless.

1 comment:

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Ouch! The finality.