Language of The Silence.

Photo by Kevin McCutcheon 

It’s natural to imagine and feel ourselves in the center of the universe with the whole planet spinning around our feet. Reality is very different. The greatest battles and drama of the past are only remembered through the pages of old books and history websites.

Thank You!

Endorphin explosion or pearl wine, pushing us inside this trance?

We speak the language of the silence,
some like to use the words of patience,
while others prefer the lines of violence,
gently feeling toxic paper,
hardening soft edges of the human skin.

Holding hands,
in the dance,
under the sun of Southern France,
whispering desire in each other’s lungs.

Endorphin explosion or pearl wine,
pushing us inside this trance?

Strange feeling,
Giving wings to dwellers of the land,
adding color to the image from the past.

Closer,
Chest against the chest.
Heartbeat,
unified, combined,
commanding rhythm to the limbs.

Grumpy player ceding tune,
spitting record outside,
as if some tasteless gum,
stuck to morning pavement,
boring, ancient.

Enjoy the saga while it lasts.

Please let me know what you think of the poem on Twitter @FischerVladimir

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