Abruptly

I’d just a vision of you loitering in my kitchen
Twirling a single silver Sterling ’tween your fingers
That the dusk’s drawn dusk caught, fought to glisten
While the metal would not, cool as your demeanor

That is,
Until

You spat, “Silence is for the weak—
Those without a mind to speak!”

I claimed to disagree,
That the art’s not ‘tongue-in-cheek’
But for the patient, for the potent, for the wise—

“Ah, just vocal chords exchanged for gored eyes!”


Well, what would you have to say
If you could not see?


“No!—What would you have to see
If you could not say?”