Sound, sound, sound the dimensions of which are endless, defenseless, I can be quiet, like you told me.
Only you said it in a way that was far more unsettling. What are the metaphors for the quiet; a snake, a cat before it pounces on an unsuspecting mouse, oh, the defenseless mouse, and the dead?
I learned how to be quiet one night in a breathless bar. It was with you, I think. My memory goes in and out; oh you already know that, of course you do.
We were there no more than ten minutes when my voice disappeared. The suddenness was almost laughable to you. I opened my mouth to speak; sandpaper rubbing against my vocal cords swollen from useless overuse. It is strange how many people can suddenly go deaf.
Here we are again, you ignoring me as if I do not exist. You seem to be disappearing into various levels of sound as I begin to merge into the surroundings. With only one sound there is silence. I could be a ghost. I could be a ghost.