hurricane

QUIET:

                               we�re drowning the butterflies
                                            the blackness is eating our words,
                    now, the silence has beribboned our bodies
                                             HERE,
                                             and there and here and there and here
                                   and there and here and there and
                            here and here and there and there
                                        and there and here.

                                   Dead are the puddles,
                      when the horrors that follow
                                              black and silent
                                              slink loquaciously thru the doorway
                                                           walking on
                                                                       padded
                                                                              feet.