Words unspoken Dorian Nightingale

Dorian Nightingale words unspoken

and just like that i snap back to that place beyond the perimeter. where words run out as they cross the periphery. dropping to the ground, collapsing their mass right there right in front of me. buckling their knees whilst beseeching their worth, offering me contemplation in the wet, sticky earth. reasoning i have to choose from many of their meanings and claim me for their equivalent terms. pleading with me to utter their name and be part of their lexical territory.

you see, their rhetoric doesn’t speak to me, and they will always fall short. ill-defined, ill-equipped, not cut out for such intimate thoughts. so i remain tight-lipped, unmoved as their voices die down. bwing their heads in quiet enervation, my silence again deaf to all their pointless whispering.