Poetry, Politics, War, Writing

Sexy Quiet

What if I made the choice
and the choice was

It’s true
sometimes Noise
tricks me
into believing
he is life.

What with all the
heart racing
and the jumping out of bed.
Gentle she,
though sometimes
allows me the freedom
to kiss my children goodbye
and think like that again
when the front door crashes
Unassuming Quiet
permits me to write
and eat ice cream.

I desire Quiet.

Noise, though sexy,
appetizing in an indulgent way
moves me in the way
ice cream does,
when I eat it from
a cone. One scoop
more than I needed.

5 thoughts on “Sexy Quiet”

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