"What I Meant by Silence"
Before I learned
the meanings of words
I knew what the wind
was trying to say—
not in syllables,
but in how it pressed
its cool hands to my face.
They taught me names for things,
gave me scripts and handshakes,
and I learned to reply.
But something older went quiet in me.
I missed Aether like a mother’s
scent on an empty coat. Now,
I listen where language fails,
hoping a rustle, a breath,
will speak again.