BY EMMANUELLA DEMOSTHENES

No vibration strikes no chords
Stir no hearts to no longing
No minds to no answers
Deaf notes play the melody to which we dance.

No sing-song “Good Mornings”
No off-key solos to the hairbrush
Just silent mornings where Father drinks coffee like a vampire thirsty for blood
And I search my Cheerios for your face
And how I long for a single vibration
To fill this empty house with sound,
With song,
With life,

With you.

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