Silence
A poem
Oct 6, 2021
The dust of the object
envelopes her eyes.
She was entranced by the drift of memories,
how a once something
could disintegrate into the particles of time.
Fooled by white beauty,
she breathes in the toxins.
She speaks,
but no sound would come:
it was not allowed,
she was to be silent.
A Pandora’s box
of music and muse,
of beauty and deception,
of silence and the silenced.
