The Voice in My Dreams

I came down the mountain
I called your name
through teeth so shattered
a voice so hoarse
a tongue so splintered
I lost the tone
of sweet nothings.

From shouting through the wind
a deep aversion filled me
with words spoken with meaning
tone, intent, intonation
a whisper sends shivers
shudders a howl does make.

Frozen through isolation
deep tongues, deep thoughts – curiosities
accumulate shards of ice and snow
forced, pressed together
informed into a shape
let my words pierce – wound
you
may you travel no further
from me.

My voice from the hills
swept strong and true
through valleys, dales, and glens
to bury deep inside the earth
a cry, a howl, a shriek, a scream,
a whisper – an utter – a whimper – a decree
of blessèd mockery.

Let us be true
and sit and smoke in silence
ne’er decry our internal, eternal
solitude.

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