Sometimes I talk only to fill up the silences.
My words are often as empty
as the quiet they attempt to keep at bay.

But the silence always remains,
an unfulfilled promise
that rides beneath my words.
A gentle but insistent companion
that fills up the spaces in my speech.

There is nothing to be done
against the ocean of stillness
that lays itself out before me.
I can only try to lose myself in it,
like a well told story,
and hope no to ruin too much
by talking.

AcB 7.11.00