Amplitude in a Small Apartment

There is a need for quietness today, I listen to my neighbor's toilet flush, it takes a long time for the sound to drain away and refill, I hold seconds inside my mind between that rise and fall. There is space for listening, the trash compactor chews on when switched off. I hear conversations filtering through the air conditioner, words both distinct and garbled. Yesterdays hurried meal speaks still, moments explore newly opened pocket. This is not silence sound moves upon carpet slippers, yet steps are heightened by being audible in a lower registry of depth. It is I who creates this lengthening, this processional unwinding of of unremarkable moments, a distance between and marked by blank labels - every note, an eavesdropping deliverance.