all the lovely quiets of the world

The hum of early noon paused a moment before passing 

through my window and I thought there was nothing more 

I love than the variety of silence blanketing any day, or even

the noise of life that leaves a silence in its place. on day I shall

tell you, of the moment I walked the sidewalk, stopped at 

a corner in west village to listen to a cellist at my opposite. 

the bow gliding in the new green arches of june I appreciated 

nothing more than stumbling into a preservation of silence. 

the city to vanish, between us a shared sigh. I would cross 

the valleys of sound towards the chatter an isle of white noise, 

meeting east where the youth scatter the street wet by past rain

before I was older I’d longed to live in the apartments above them,

the voices of friendship and damp concrete made silence waft my room

to connect by silence understanding to a city I felt perpetually apart from.

cozy me your voices, carry me far, carry me together. every silence 

is less the same to another, even in the moments between your voice, 

where speaking once was. I hear it different every time and in

one morning wake to an apartment emptied of consciousness

kiss me and say nothing, silence arriving between us as relief

this is a love letter to the quiet and overheard, your varied emptiness

eventually, I shall tell you this, the comforts between muted sound. 

until then, you can find me in the silent settled darkness

of a house that doesn’t turn its lights on when it rains.