Notes

No need for quiet

Peace or peaceful

Quiet.

A dark night’s

Pounding cumbia,

Slamming voices,

Squabbles and

Food fights.

Overlapping smiles and

Always laughter.

It’s not that

Silence can’t glisten.

It speaks the words

Of those unsure of

Themselves yet.

But my warm,

Thrumming tongue

Cannot, does not

Wait

Until it slips back

A thread into

Its tapestry.

Creating light and darkness

Lies and delight.

Sound.

Always vocal notes

That read—

“I’m alive.”