I sat in chairs, different ones around the room
listening to the time passing
listening to the reminders of you
the memories filling the room, pressing against the ceilings.

The sounds of everything,
of you rubbing your eyes in the middle of the night.
of the heat emanating from your hand to my thigh.
of the fan that you turned off.
of the neighbors’ children on Saturday mornings.

We were captive once.
not us,

Our desires
held against their wills.

you built that fire from the roots, and seemed astonished when it took to the branches.

We passed each other in airplanes
we met every night on trains in my dreams
You got married one night.

You insisted that to put out fires, you needed lightning.
Words, mostly.
So many words, but it turns out
you had been silent this whole time.

I guess in the end
it was the
Quiet that bothered you the most.

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