Words are extroverts
Supping on fornication 
Silence is a girl 
You overlooked in grade school
And years later
Reminded of her tight braids
The color of caramel
You seek her in crowds 
Like a woman without children
Will hesitate
Ever so slightly 
On a babies wispy crown
Half thinking
Her baren hands
We carry our pains
Wrapped in butcher’s brown paper
With yesterday’s headlines
Bled on our feet
As rain purges the feeling and night
Grows trees of velvet
In the deep inhalation 
of a closed door against 
Night storm