No one really pays attention to the sounds of silence
especially in the seconds b4 death.
It is a gift given yet rarely used...I for one am consumed
by its echo.
All the space becomes bubbled like the wrappings of the
most delicate of priceless pieces.
The rhythm of the heart matches the splatter of rain drops
with enormous asunder!!
So thick and impeding at times you become engulfed like
a trapped fowl in oil, unable to free itself...it gives in to the
inevitable and waits patiently.
So since we have arrived at this place together once again
there is no reason for either of us to introduce ourselves.
Like I told you before...when you whispered before you yelled
I have no intentions on following you to hell.

"We must always be reluctant.''