Knowing Silence More Than Love

i will always keep secrets.

We cast demons into feral pigs
While the madness is within us.
Deaf to its calling,
Knowing silence more than love.
I have counted and collected
Tears enough for every brook;
Babbling persistent like drunken Jesuits.
It is not easy to be sentimental with
Something so deep and secret
Just wishing to turn to stone.
We cut threads and wait for the fray.
People get broken;
The things I hide in you are vulnerable
In the harshness of dawn.
Blind light cutting right through to flaws.
Eyes covered, weight unbelievable.
The least of us have built castles
With walls and doors impenetrable
Hoping to keep ourselves out.

Melissa Fry Beasley

Melissa Fry Beasley is a Poet, Advocate, and Activist from Oklahoma. She is proud to have red dirt running through her veins. You can find her both in print and online in various magazines and journals. She has work published or forthcoming here: Poetry Bulawayo, Lake City Lights, Daily Love, Leaves Of Ink, The Dandelion Farm Review, Poetry Pacific, Cuento Magzine, Tuck Magazine and others.

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