a tidal wave of soundlessness swooping
down unsuspecting, a riptide sweeping a child
out to sea, the tornado that
appears out of nowhere in the country
sky: the tsunami of silence that
deafens as it rushes, wailing and shrieking,
down the echoing hallways of consiousness.
save me, save me, save me--
i am too young and small for this sort of
complete desolation, a desert of self and
arid solitude, i am too well-rooted in
humidity and the sweating swamps of companionship
for this sun-burning smoke-signaling
heat-loving atmosphere. the hope of you
in weeks or months is a long, dark mirage
grainy on the horizon, and always far away.