We tend to eat ice cream every time it was cold out. Like that one night I let you try Moonsky & Sunny. You could not decide which flavor so I chose coffee and chocolate mint instead. Beneath the moon and sky, I gave you a sunny smile. You laughed when you realized I was waiting for a feedback. It tasted great, you acquiesced. The next time we ate, you picked the place. I remember getting lost and strolling quite a distance. You kept saying sorry and it was the first time I told you how I love long walks. And so we did. Seven kilometers long. There was also this one night you told me about a funny man who sells dirty ice cream on the street. We found him along the honking and crawling cars. A man in his 30s wearing a slim-fit white t-shirt and faded blue tight jeans. This time you waited how I’d react. Did I tell you it hurts to suppress a laugh? And how could I miss last night’s sundae? Down with cough and cold, you said you it was nothing. Stubborn man. You talked your way out with politics, laws, and secrets. And I found myself in silence— yet again. Eating my ice cream, in muted words, my eyes screamed: damn how I love this human.

Moonlit silent nights
Memories of you and I—
Burning senses, sigh
MS


In response to dVerse’s Poetics: Sounds of Silence hosted by Dwight Roth who challenges usto write a poem about the human condition that eludes to silence, especially the sounds of silence. What is being said when nothing is spoken and no sound is being made?

Head over here to join the fun!

dverse