Silence is the way sunlight Traverses your face And leaves highways For words to follow on.

Silence is the touch of a curtain In a rainstorm, and the words of endearment, Which you don't fail to hear In silence.

Silence is the heartbeat A shell holds of the sea, The whorls of which I kiss When I kiss your navel.

Silence is the well Into which you shout All your names of forgetting For me to listen.

Silence is the place Where one rain cloud meets another Where this hand touches these lips And trembles for a moment

The violence done, the wound spring Sprung, the burden of pleasing your Hunger, my hunger for the clarity of A sentence - it is for these reasons, Mother, that I, having wandered far, Still seek forgiveness every morning.