Wednesday, May 12

oh i never forget the voices
which spoke even through the fan
with an insistence that preceded the clouds
they raved and wanted you to heed
but you rolled them over like thunder,
damn, the woman never speaks.
i slightly wonder if this refusal is defiance
or a ceasing of a murmur at a wish resigned.
clad we all are in the sorrows of the night,
only i hang back with the weight of murder
you know, the deaths you court through senses,
all of them, the five, the five wily ones.
what with the hollow still dug up in your heart
to exorcise the thousand tiny voices.