Nothing Will Come of Nothing

‘Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again.’

From that dark place, you kept our vow of silence. I said,

‘I loved you,’ but those words could not take me away

from you, from us, and the nothingness.

In that silence I could read you. It was a gift

you gave me when I had a voice, back when

I had no need for questions. I remembered what

I had heard when we were wordless, when 

dead language was laid upon our tongues, when

our mouths had crumbled that dry dust,

like ancient books, unread and unwritten.

Like ancient books, unread and unwritten,

our mouths had crumbled. That dry dust,

dead language, was laid upon our tongues. When

I had heard; we were wordless. When

I had no need for questions, I remembered what

you gave me when I had a voice; back when,

in that silence, I could read you. It was a gift

from you, from us, and the nothingness.

I loved you, but those words could not take me away

from that dark place. You kept our vow of silence.  I said

‘Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again.’