“I use the words you taught me. If they don’t mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.”
— Samuel Beckett
I have no words yet still I’m asked to speak. No subject or object tho plenty of objection. Shall I speak of the peace I seek yet find only pieces of? Will whispered words of social grace with no content make you content? What are the right wards that will keep away your loneliness and how shall I utter them? Do you wish communication without communion between us or interlocution when neither of us can find ourselves?
I can offer you my thoughts but don’t know whether you can weather the storm. I burn for understanding yet is it to know or to be known, that is unbeknownst.
I will hold your hands in silence and perhaps that will be enough.
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