I learned from an early age that
silence was a key to a door many
never bothered to open.
Words are fictional elements to me,
all you need to know lies in the pool
of orbital space.
Time stands still, languages pass
through complex fingers like sand.
A revolving door of infinite possibility
grasps my chin and pulls a grin.
And although your words are pretty,
they are only surface deep,
therefore ostensible to a
creature like me.