solea

the most potent licor

is that distilled

in the inkwells

of my own fingerprints;

penning a warning

of that most dangerous consumption

which corrodes my lungs

and poisons my songs

and leeches into everyday words;

greying the sounds

already withering in the ears

of those I trusted loved
that singly impermutable silence;

that spot which laid untouchably within

a deep, cristalline cavity of stillness

where restitution was unrequired

and deemed unthinkable

(and seemed unbreakable) -

justified in quiet unspoken peace.

and yet, oh how my toxic agony leaked;

dripping from coagulated fires

into the pit of my stomach

searing the root of my voicebox

and preaching deafness to overcome

those to whom that airy stillness called.