Voiceless;
but, somewhere,
screams, like a night-car,
lust for ears.
Like a fallen tree,
be back inside,
diaphragmic cluster.
Oh, the words I could not muster:
“You hurt me,
so I came at you
like thunder.”

No,
the birds have not stopped singing;
someone shut the window, though.

No,
the sunlight did not die;
you closed your eyes instead.

No,
that envelope, unopened,
was not yours ever to close.

And, no,
that heartbeat sound you hear
is not your lover’s breath.