a million coins, shattering the glass. so many more dreams, i’m counting them one by one. a grain of sand slips past me, through my fingers, lodges itself in my throat, makes my voice raspier. harder to lie, harder too to scream the truth, whose truth.
silence becomes a comfortable cloak, wrap myself in streetlights and gray pavement.

a million tongues. per capita per word per letter. the stories float just out of my reach, teasing my gaze, stinging my eyes. taking my breath away, no, just holding it. can’t breathe, that isn’t the same. because i try.

drawn into the colours. bird wings streaking the white and blue, leaking colour in their wake. note the spellings of my words, point out the Capitals. semantics, combing through someone else’s scratches, looking for some proof of decency.

impromptu hiatuses, like sudden silences, are sometimes signals of angels passing through.