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Feb 2019
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.
John Destalo
Written by
John Destalo  55/M/Harrisburg, PA
(55/M/Harrisburg, PA)   
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