all of the silences

she is a master at her craft
a builder of extraordinary skill
employing language deftly refined
and meticulously set, her words
one by anxious one rising
as another wall emerges
into the darkness of my days
prohibiting useless dalliance,
for all must have a purpose,
even this matter between us
that once glowed with passion,
this once glorious act of love
now extraneous to a fault

she has taught me much
as the months have passed
and I have struggled to find
reason in this structure she erects,
assuring myself that her silence
is warranted by my own
petulant brooding, her distance
the result of my loathsome features—
of course she does not touch me
for who would choose to fondle
this aging fetid flesh of mine—
how much easier to keep building
in simple untainted silence

I have learned my lessons well
I abide within these walls

I have become all of the silences
you have taught me to keep

[Thank you, dearest Allison, for your incredible talent at always discovering just the right words, which I then gleefully borrow from you.]

6 thoughts on “all of the silences

  1. Very beautiful ode… inspiring a tad of envy… ;)) but very hard on yourself… as so many of us are, maybe… so, relatable, though painful. “a builder of extraordinary talent / employing language deftly refined / and meticulously set” – sounds like you, G 🤗🙏

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yeah, he’s just a bit hard on himself.

      the result of my loathsome features—
      of course she does not touch me
      for who would choose to fondle
      this aging fetid flesh of mine—

      This is incredibly raw, and incredibly potent, but… George… you’re a normal middle aged human. The word “fetid” is so harsh! I mean seriously, there’s nothing a bit of deodorant and cologne can’t fix!


      David

      Liked by 1 person

      • My God, David, you did it again. “There’s nothing a bit of deodorant and cologne can’t fix”! I was rolling with this one, my wee lad insisting I explain why I was laughing so much. Of course, explaining it didn’t help. He is only five after all and only this morning was talking about how much he likes the taste of his buggers.

        Like

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