Quiet stealthily moving
Throughout the house
Blowing out candles without
Even a whisper.
With a gesture
Too subtle to recognize
Quiet lays his hand
On your books and removes the words.
Not even a breath
Disturbs your dresses
As Quiet removes each one
And gently places each
On a small decoration of embers
And they disappear into ash
Effortlessly.
Finding them wrong
Quiet removes the notes
From your music with
An imperceptible
Closing of his eyes.
After a passage of moments
Quiet gazes upon your paintings
Turns his back
And they
Sink slowly into the wall
Without a trace.
Barely noticing
Quiet slips into those spaces
Which allow doors to open
And with a fingertip
Seals them from moving again.
Finally to your bed
Quiet flows
And with a touch
You almost feel,
Closes your eyes.
The only sound
In your house
Is the gentle sigh
As you exhale
This last time
Quiet kisses you.
Sunday, May 17, 1998