
Silence means
Your mouth became a graveyard
Your voice, a hollow wind stirring the ashes of worthiness
Your hopes were unsheltered leaves
Wild, fragile things holding still
Afraid to disturb the quiet with their breath
To speak is to grow a garden
To make the soil of your mouth fertile again
To witness scattered leaves leaking their fragrance into your lungs
Watching the ivy poised so ladylike against the gates
You have grown a beautiful shield
A bed of thorny roses keeping watch by the fence
You bloom with more colors than my lips have words for
I watch you flourish
And lovely girl
I am so proud


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