The reason people hum
When they’re alone is because
The silence is too loud.
There’s too much space, the sky
Is too heavy,
And the sun’s constant
Over the shoulder
Calls too much attention to the back
Of the eyelids.
Call it a wish,
The belief that silence is quiet,
That a simple utter can make
And thunder crawl across clouds.
When the shadows grow too tall,
And when hallways stretch,
When all of the sound in my body
Screams inside the back of my neck,
Some days I want to do something rash.
Like catching lightning in a bottle.