Silence, by Vicky Taft

Alone, I traveled beside a wall of clocks,

the land of structure—no room to imagine.

A forest of matches strikes a rock

and lights a world of unexpected passion.

The now irrelevant clocks have frozen;

and running fast into the forest I find

too little space for feeling and reason.

So emotion occupies my occupied mind.

And as the light swallows the world you emerge,

and a proper place is formed for this fire—

so into this light I gladly submerge.

Now, surrounded by desire,

this recklessly beautiful sensation

is expressed most clearly through implications.

-Vicky Taft

Featured in Vol. 1 Iss. 3
Featured in Vol. 1 Iss. 3
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