They say that silence is fragile

thin glass that shatters with a sharp tap of a fingernail.

But I know that silence is not a lapse in noise.

It is the truth that lays

bare and dry when the current of words recedes to a meek trickle

It is the natural default that our world began in, so it will engulf the world when it


Humans (in denial) hardly notice this

Except when we are in large flocks, and

Somehow, the conversations lull as if rehearsed, and suddenly everyone can hear it:


Everyone chuckles out of awkwardness

Or maybe out of nervousness.

They discovered that cells stretch like

a veil across a petri dish,

Never accumulating too thickly or crawling up and out of the sides.

And when some of the tissue is punctuated and removed,

The cells seamlessly fill in the gap, until they

once again rest comfortably in the dish,

a single fleshy entity.

They say that silence is fragile

a snowflake that dissolves on your skin.

But, darling, we prove that silence is the strongest force of all,

And ours (a special kind) is tainted with cancer:

The units pile up on one another, smother the dish, pour out of the walls,

multiply prematurely, voicelessly cry out for sustenance.

Never mind, though—never mind.

I know you don’t care much for biology, anyway.


Photo from flickr


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