Noise Memory
It's the sound of her wailing that seeps into my pores. Noise travels weightless
from her throat and bends itself before I can filter what I want to hear. It
bends, splits exponentially into molecular reality, and begins its attack.
My heart cracked from letting the sound in. And now it resides inside; the tragic experience of watching love shatter and explode in the long wails of her pain. I've captured a noise memory I never intended knowing.
A noise memory to be relived in my twisting body muscles giving strength and purpose to the aching bones housing the memory of her solo suffering.
This is the part I could never see (hear) coming. Knowledge I never anticipated knowing. A memory I would never make.
And then you left her...
Leaving pieces of her trailing after you. Leaving the sound of desperation in her moans and pleading in her lungs.
[I must having something I need to say to you. And now you have me taking time out of this writing to address the swelling anger. She will just remind me that you are in pain. I've never needed help remembering that fundamental truth of breath till you left me with the noise memory of broken love.]
January 27, 2006