Listen to a podcast of Ellyette Sakas’ “the sound”
The gravitational pull was relentless,
leaving bent trees and overturned cars in its wake.
The all consuming rush of wind and sand
that stung our eyeballs and choked up our throats.
i could not see you
i could hear you
You needed me to kiss your scars,
the half-moon reminders of an intangible existence.
You needed me…
to tie up the pain in a little paper bag and throw it into the white crested waves.
we watched it toss and sink slowly,
diaphanous, insignificant
and I will kiss you softly, like I did that day
That day I refused to believe you.
My words never reached your ears
i was standing, screaming wordless screams
the sound lost in the storm,
kicking up dust and sweat
…a calm and quiet cacophony
you watched me mouth the loudest silent words
every syllable caught up, carried away,
inaudible
broken to bits on the rocks
you could see me
you could not hear me
you’ll never know
how much i could have loved you
how much i could have hated you
