Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Music invents silence

“Your ghost will walk
You lover of trees
If our loves remain.”

It is twilight. The quiet
Of my breath, an equilibrium

Of space and sound. Absence
Is a premonition. Soon I will

Trace my memoirs. My echoes
Will confine the exiles of silence

That your voice will vacate. The specters
Of my presence will observe

Nothing. Stealthily, the rain
Will wash away the chronicles

Of ashes. Nomads will come.
Music will invent silence.

Yes, alright. I have been reading Paz.