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Silence and Noise

I used to think that silence was
when we first touched
and my fingers skimmed your back
as gently as snowfall
and you told me
that it felt
like you had
grown wings
 
most mornings i woke for you 
and i wish i wouldn’t have kept quiet about
the graceful way your arms were placed
and the complex pattern the rumpled sheets left
on your face when you turned over to kiss me
good morning
 
I used to think that noise was
when we ran home in the downpour
squealing like children
and you dropped the groceries
down the stairwell
cans crashing onto concrete
thudthudthud of grapefruits and oranges
and you drove me to the wall
and stole my lips
like you were starving
 
noise was fighting just to make up
and dragging our problems around the room
like empty cans tied to a bumper
 
silence was you
perched like stone
on your windowsill
when you spoke your poetry
in solemn glowing tones
and in the air around you
dust circled and danced
like tiny pirouetting stars
and the light from the hollow moon
made you into a ghost
 
silence was the cone that surrounded us
whenever we’d talk
how I was drunk on
the lines in your face
etched in by hundreds of thousands
of open-mouthed smiles
 
I used to believe that noise was
when together
we laid in your empty room
and filled it with my closed-eyed uhs
and your open-eyed mmms
and we were drowning
and we never
came up for air
 
but noise is the thunder
of keeping thoughts inside
 
i had love for you hidden in places
where i couldn’t even retrieve it
tucked deep into the hollows of my bones
and in the spaces between my eyelashes
 
silence was the way you could glance at me
in a room full of people
and make them all disappear
it was how you ignored the extra weight I carried
here

and here

​and loved me
 
it was the space between passion and absence
the way neither of us could say anything
because the air between us
was so filled with hope
  
and noise was the shattered space you left
the tremors of deceit
the tentative scratching at windows
and the desperate pounding on doors
 
but we didn’t have anything
between the silence and the noise
no plateau, no solid ground,
no polished stone
no patch of grass
to land on
 
and then you were gone
and I remembered
what silence was
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  • HOME
  • GALLERIES
    • GREAT MOMENTS
    • EXPERIMENTS
    • HUMAN RIGHTS PROJECT
    • CREATIVE PROCESS
    • IDEA JOURNAL DISCOVERIES
    • 2022-2023 GALLERY
    • 2021-2022 GALLERY
    • 2020-2021 GALLERY
    • 40S GALLERY >
      • Portraits
      • Altered Books
      • Expressive Masks
      • Ink Blot Drawings
      • Juxtaposition
      • Sculptural Works
      • Paint and Pass
    • 30S GALLERY >
      • Idea Journal Work
      • Autobiographical Comics
      • Collaborative Books
      • Guerilla Art
      • ZINES
      • Metamorphoses
      • 64 Ways in 64 Days
      • Book Illustrations
      • Printmaking
      • Surrealism
      • Tiled Portraits
      • Value Studies
      • INQUIRY PROJECTS
    • 20S GALLERY >
      • Idea Journal Work
      • Skills Exercises
      • Value Studies
      • Still Life Studies
      • Logo Development
      • Idioms
      • Hero Dolls
      • Masks
      • Sculptural Works
      • Natural Beauty
      • Mandalas
      • Signature Collages
      • Paint and Pass
      • Breakfast for an Artist
      • INQUIRY PROJECTS
    • FIELD TRIPS
  • FOR STUDENTS
    • COURSE OVERVIEW
    • DRAWING IDEAS
    • PLAY DATES
    • MYOM
    • STOP ACTION RESOURCES
    • 20S INTRO TO ART >
      • ARTNOW LINKS
    • 30S INTERMEDIATE ART >
      • ART30 - ZINES
      • PORTRAITURE RESEARCH
      • CONCEPTUAL ART PROJECT
      • COMIC PROJECT
      • ARTNOW LINKS
    • 40S ADVANCED ART >
      • INQUIRY BASED LEARNING
      • ARTNOW LINKS
      • CRITIQUES
    • ARTHIVE
    • TASK PARTIES
  • FOR PARENTS
  • FOR TEACHERS
  • ABOUT ME
  • BLOG
  • CONTACT