A pause hangs in the air like poison gas. It threatens to devour more moments: good moments, sacred moments, moments that could've been something. It envelops all, encasing minds in psychic concrete, entombing thoughts so hushly that not even the thinker can hear them. Through the ear-ringing hours, nothing is said & nothing is heard -- not a word or a scream or unsolicited fashion advice -- nothing but the high tone that slits through silence.
Pause Bloat [Free Verse]