These are the hands that inhabit me in silence
I watch my fingers tremble
        microsisms
   then the seaquake
and then a meteorite

To force a refuge
    I choose the wind
        I chose the forest and the water
  I will go with the rivers
    I will go herd whales
  so that in a blink silence will be different
    so I stop being this tangle of fateful wreckage
 until tears are no longer thorns
until the seaquake silences all these eyes
    to adopt waiting, even if the meteorite doesn’t care.

But my hands burn
    and the wind swings.

Silence came, and it came without us
  I’ve seen how it inhabits us
that persistent.
And it doesn’t come from what surrounds us
    not from the river, nor from how insistent the wind has been
    not from something emerging
it’s a silence that comes neither from the light nor the steps

   and that silence    d o e s    n o t   l i s t e n

Nothing is wilder or more primal than that!
but it persists, it wanders and swarms
and it told me no,
that none of this makes sense
that noise wraps us as it wraps so many mistakes of life.

And the eyes don’t want to see
I want to replace evasion.

But yesterday the fireflies told me I should scar them,
they advised me not to follow the light
and confessed to me the horror of this indelible misfortune,
of the inaudible uproar.
They assured me this is not a simulation and that it’s instant.

Don’t ever wake me, never wake me please.