The Perched Silence

Wonderful is the dance of our courtship-- daily getting smashed to dust daily returned to the mirthful unison again. Isn't the concrete so brittle or amorphous that conjoins the blocks of stones or bricks? And yet so strong and durable somewhere that lasted almost a life's period! Was or is this a bond of hatred?And if so, is it not preferable to love even,ever? What happens to us? Do we have some volcanic or seismic line as our foundation?And again if not so, does our shelter rest upon some dangerous latitude so as to come closer in the evening due to heavy rain and crack apart in the morning due to excess of sun? shouldn't have we missed millions of soothing words from each other or likewise,shouldn't have we lost millions of opportunities to come closer to each other in our silences of slow combustion and in our mute or enraged communications? And these accumulated heaps of moments of hope,of frustration,of expectation and abortion-- are they not a million fold precious more memorable than our expressed overtunes? Is it then this,for this blood burning,tear soaking, shy,solitary hankering for roasting pleasure that we subjected ourselves knowingly or unknowingly to such an arduos penance for those and these years ,Darling?