There is silence in this land.
It echoes, slowly at first, it cascades into an
unimaginably ferocious quiet.
It’s unbearable. Unsurpassable.
We do not speak. Our screams evade us.
Words fail us, and when spoken,
we will fail them.
Did you see the news?
The bloodshed of a million
words unspoken? Of a million words
They did not show you,
you would break the blinding silence
twirl the screeching webs between your fingertips,
cry out at the mirrors in your living room.
We are here.
That day the women were painted red
with the blood of the grandchildren
losing their bodies to the nation
they fought to protect.
Now dried, covered by wind,
We slip into silence again.