An Academy of Silences
held “An Academy of silences” Diane Seuss said and I was just before thinking about how so many relationships are carried on as though someone has just stepped on the detonation pin, & the long aftershock pause has stopped it all: the victims, intimates and random passersby. The fragility of its nearly imperceptible sound, or, for those who didn’t hear it, the stock-still posture, the absolute awe of the flesh yet cleaved to its tendon & bone not yet cleaved from its tendon and bone. Toe pin. The lift of the heel, the perceptive listener, like a piano tuner at rush hour who can sift through so many so many notes on those slack wires . . . her hand goes up just as her face is drained & everything is quiet. This my friends is the true test of strength, the caution of the tipped bomb, the unlifted weight, the people feeling their face their ribs their crotches to to...