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
Unworthy
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