walking off the edge
of the world

what happens to all
the questions
that go
unanswered?

what space do they
fill,
what mirror reveals
their reflection?

i see them sometimes
at night
when my eyes are filled
with insomnia

they glow in the dark,
a little

offering up silhouettes
and sibilance

but the edges
are always

blurred

and

when i reach my hand out
in the dark
there is nothing

there

but

i hear whispers

tiny bits
of vowel and consonant
syllable
inflection
rejection
perfection

hints of laughter

it’s funny though,
the way i never
hear

music.

::

::

::

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

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of the world”

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