Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Ignorance

He knows the cruelty of ignorance and plays a deft hand.  Not the ignorance of not knowing but the ignorance of ignoring. I see him without looking, hear him without listening. I know him inside, outside, all around, not with my eyes but as a blind woman senses and perceives, just evidence of him existing, being present. I know he's there ethereal and omnipresent but silent, unyielding, unfeeling. 

He's so close that I can hear him breathe but no breath touches my skin. So near I can imagine his warmth but no heat emanates.  So tactile,  my skin crawls with the potential of touch but he does not lay a hand. He makes my heart race, my ears ring, perspiration bead.

His ignorance brings tears where there should be none because he is blase. He is the hider in the house, the silence on the phone, the shadow on the wall, the light flickering without a source. He watches, he waits, he pauses  making the quiet disquieting.  The heaviness is unbearable and the silence grows into a noiseless cacophony.

I imagine his angel face, tear-stained and wrought. His heart heavy,  his mind racing. I imagine him without solace or companions, dark and depressed, sad and lonely, I imagine him in caverns deep and clamouring for release. A  heavy burden when sucked into the ether and the silence screams. I imagine him alone, wanting to be alone but wanting to be heard, afraid to share.  I'm teased, taunted distraught. I'm  embarrassed at my folly and concern.  He makes me fearful and agitated while he waits and watches in  silence.

There's no solace without conversation or even argument  or physicality. No satiation found in berating or objection. He ignores and I'm reduced to amoebic slush, nothing, less than nothing, left with only my own  emotional weakness and imaginings.

A raging silence that has me whirling out of control but remains unbroken. I want quarter to his thoughts,  glimpses into his psyche. I need a place in his heart but he ignores and the silence roars.

Finally, he speaks and smiles and sweetly chastises, blows kisses across the ether and the quiet stops, broken, shattered in mercurial beads and the sweet libation of reassurance pours from his lips and I am, once again, becalmed on his quiet ocean, knowing he is present, visible and real.

He whispers and the silence lies broken.

12 comments:

  1. You know, despite knowing what all the subtext is about, I reread this from a perspective of a sniper... and the result is overwhelming.

    I think you should go there. Totally.

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  2. Surprising how easily the roaring silence was broken.

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  3. "He ignores and the silence roars." My favorite line in a great piece.

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  4. 'The heaviness is unbearable and the silence grows into a noiseless cacophony'

    An amazing piece, but that was my favorite line.

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  5. yeah..some cool wordiness in here. i can totally get into the piece too, you make me feel it.

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  6. I live this and couldn't have ever put it into better words.

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  7. your words have a great flow and you put me right in it...those last several paragraphs are filled with great lines.

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  8. Okay, so honestly, I cannot pick a favorite line. The whole thing is beyond beautiful

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  9. I too have lived that, and it took five years of my life. No words, smiles, or sweet chastising can ever lift the weight of that silence. Never again.

    Well done.

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  10. He's so close that I can hear him breathe but no breath touches my skin. So near I can imagine his warmth but no heat emanates. So tactile, my skin crawls with the potential of touch but he does not lay a hand. He makes my heart race, my ears ring, perspiration bead.

    I liked these lines very much.

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  11. I don't know if I'm interpreting this correctly, but it's a shame that we need the other to break the silence to feel whole.

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  12. signed in to follow you,
    welcome following back.
    awards in my post today,
    feel free to claim and share.
    Cheers.

    fabulous writing,
    keep it up.

    ReplyDelete