if i didn’t know better
i would think that your heart was carved
out of ivory piano keys
that sometimes forget they aren’t connected
to piano strings anymore
so they try to sing in the way they are used to
but their voices have become
the pause in a writer’s fingers
as they pick through words
to find the ones that will
bring themselves to life
without too much coaxing,
and, failing to find them,
abandon the whole project as futile.
but i do know better,
and so i think that you are
maybe just the silent type.
