shhh… listen to no sound
listen to your every inhale
to your every exhale
that’s the only sound you make
because you have no words to share
no expressions to exchange
blank and unmoved
afraid to exist
hiding, disappearing, erasing your self
but i see you
i hear you
i understand

shhh… listen to the movement
is it gentle or heavy?
is it rushed, abrupt, swept like a feather in a gust?
you keep me guessing
but the graceful, serene, and delicate
touches are the best
you know when to apply them so well
you do them often and in stealth
so no one would notice
the tenderness
of your kind heart
always hidden, mute, invisible
a wallflower,
avoiding the limelight

© simon whittle — from lovers’ tiff: a ballad

One thought on “mute

  1. writernotwrong says:

    My loneliness has a habit of haunting, me, the sound of my breathing reminds me of all the words that I thought but couldn’t say, kept me in pursuit and love at bay. Your words can unite, well done, I find so often I stealth myself in my interactions and miss intentions of others so easily.

    Great work


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