Notes About The Poem
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INK THAT SILENCES INK
This poem serves as an example of the paradox of tolerance.
I open the book,
its pages soft with human breath;
it cannot protect the hands that hold it.
The spine holds more voices than mine,
each one insisting on its own truth~
I open the book.
Every chapter welcomes difference,
every margin invites dissent;
it cannot protect the hands that hold it.
Every sentence leans toward mercy,
even when mercy strains and thins~
I open the book.
But tolerance has a shadow;
some ink cuts deeper than truth~
it cannot protect the hands that hold it.
I turn the last page and see:
the cost of tolerating every voice~
I open the book.
it cannot protect the hands that hold it.
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