Afternoon

Silence.

Noiselessness so thick and cloying it stifles like fog over
Our vacant bed,
Settles on the wrinkled cotton sheets,
Finds room among the pillows we’ve deserted.
Occupies the room we’ve left in search of everything else,
Our other lives, other people.
Silence watches a sparrow flits by the closed window…
Unheard behind the thick glass,
Shut out by dust and the lifelessness of everything we’ve
Abandoned.
This cold room is as vacant as the old mill by the river,
With the empty floors and stale air,
Where we’d sneak away before the lessons of
Age caught up to us.
The same glances we shared then…but older.
The same words…but tired now.
The same us…but worn down.

Silence.

Settles over me like a cool cloud of relief, seeps
Into my muscles like a strong pain reliever.
I am numbed.