placate

there's a quiet in my heart
I don't know it,
A foreign quiet
in the cold-
it makes a blank stare,
& A solitude

the curtain tears
the hem of your dress
rips neatly
in my hands,

to the quiet of
my heart,

A bereavement
considering the dark
& empty places
of home.

Haha

a wordless dead
man, on the verge of
dead business-
crossing the river
swathed in color
tempers;
with wordless weaponry

there's a quiet in this place
I feel it creep across my bones,
when the music stops
i take it out;
the quiet
grave
of silence