who say what I instruct
enthrone their forms around me
and let them all fall silent.
For tonight it must not be myself
who speaks; not my hand
who plays their strings.
Whisper to me, stars;
sing, oh quiet night.
Let Pachelbel—let heaven
and its devils near
to plead their case.
Shut up my mouth,
my heart and mind;
let fire talk, and acts proclaim.
For I have said enough,
and exhausted wish
to never speak again.
October 2019
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