The Box

When she opened the box,
She found some silences,
Silence, when we lay together,
Looking at the stars.
Silence, when we swam together,
Meditating amidst the flowing bodies.
Silence, after the fight,
Silence, of things unsaid.
Silence, that speaks about the past.
Silence, that reminds about the future
that never was.

When she opened the box,
She found some silences,
Silences of mourning.
Mourning of you and I.
Memories that stayed silent.
Memories that we made together,
And memories that died with us.
The box smells of death,
Death of you and I, of us.

– Shantanudescott_evans_the_connoisseur

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