a place without voices

listen: the weakerthans
location: a fence on citadel hill

surreal, i answer you into the darkness. we are the sound of our smiles (the static of old radios, a spark), familiar, the wonder of things i'd forgotten to wonder. (& how i've not yet thought all i want to tell you & how i want to hold this, this, so close.) we listen to the goldberg variations from 1981, our fingers playing through these sudden, silent notes.

here are misty streets of a maritime summer. our paperboats still adrift on the ocean. trees heavy with cherries, green & new.