What is your name life,
I have asked this of you
in the silence after the storms
while the rain still falls
but not as angrily, nor with
such hatred that it whips the
stones to sand.
What is your name life,
it’s this word and the next
line of a poem that gets to me.
The way the meaning is always
one letter away from slipping
into the deep down depth
of it all, an infant ocean.
You have not answered
though I have held you
on many nights while the moon
is eyeing the world inside me.
I have howled in my own way
a whisper, maybe, to some
it is a song to me now,
sing along once, I dare you
to sing once, it’s a devil’s dance
to hold this question alive
with hands that do not obey
the mouth. I hold it now
without feeling, a choke hold
so no sound comes out.
Your name is silence.
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