I hear them
in absolute silence
They will be known
Sometimes they demand a lecture
or no demands at all
either way, the static holds.
I listen, perhaps something useful will finally be said .
Nothing slips through this speakeasy of silence dosnt matter my focus is elsewhere
Walls fade to reveal darkness
It gives a glow to prove it is holding the light captive.
There are no flames
I find my warmth with each inhale of creation
along with hold breathe moments
Terror or beauty both do the same.
Chest to the lips our controlled exhale
Slow it down, then pluck creations strings
The surge from a spark
Not of use when speed dosnt matter
The rise and fall become the same nameless thing and even in a place where outside has yet to become real
The enjoyment of hidden whispers
I can still hear them
Each voice I know
