Drew,
Becoming a thing of quiet
is always a tender chance;
Our skin, tendons, bones, and teeth
hum loud with temerity.
True, I’ve lost my trust in songs.
Hakuin, quitting his life,
wrote only one character.
This was expeditious, sure.
So, thank you for the concession.
It slowly and quietly bruised.
Tonight, I’ll forbid talking,
And map out silent things.
Best,
Trevor
