|
Silence is a droplet of grief falling into the void that has forever opened between us—you no longer sparkle while you dance, and I cannot catch your meaning adrift in this room, stifling and cold with no exit to the future. You must not follow me, you say, for I have let go of hopes and idealism. Take me home and lay me down to sleep, before you leave at daybreak to pursue what flies away. To escape from your self-pity, I close my hand to hide the pear-shaped tear piercing into time. |
| . |
Silence is by Nicolette Wong
Filed under Nicolette Wong
52|250 A Year of Flash 
As lyrically beautiful as always, Nicolette. I particularly like, ‘before you leave at daybreak to pursue what flies away’. Simply stunning.
You always write such lovely prose.
I like the way you name it — silence is a droplet of grief. Very poetic. Peace…
Just lovely and poignant, Nicolette. You’ve created a visual, an object to hold onto. Nice!
You’ve given silence a form in lush, lovely language. I love this.
In a prose-poetic way, you give form to that which is without. No easy task, and your strengths are immense.
Beautifully done! The silence and the silent sadness! Thank you.
Pingback: Week #32 – Silence | 52|250 A Year of Flash