by Tawanda Mulalu
Dark percussion of silence: the otherwise unnoticed ringing
in the ears. Night’s perpetual choral notes, day’s covered-up void—
beneath the vibrant light of cars, wind, leaves and chatter—it rings
between my window and the ground, patiently. Remember them beneath.
In other words: in other worlds: see their shadows dance beneath black.
As sun-traced branches shimmer into your eyes. As dimming pupils will
know your face where you return. When you return bleaches under time.
Cup your eyes with their lids: the absence sparks with silent, broken light.
In other worlds: in other words: hear their shadows sing beneath black.
As taps drip heavier crevices into your hands. As your eardrums
lose their tautness when your bedframe limps. Where this earth will rotate.
Cup your ears with your hands: the absence roars with shivering amnion.
Midnight’s perpetual choral notes: after my headphones fail again
to intercede between thoughts—too many cannot even be touched,
too many blacken in contemplation of the final black—this
music fades in from day’s hidden void: dark percussion of silence.
Poem copyright 2025 by Tawanda Mulalu. All rights reserved.
See more poems from Tawanda Mulalu on The Fight & The Fiddle: “Child,” “Sheffield,” and “Libido”
Read more in this issue: Interview | Critical Essay | Writing Prompt