1,359 Readings | 2 Ratings

Oren Silverman

What do we do with this emptiness? All these names of hotels with the names crossed out? Sometimes it is enough to hold the dice tightly, like the word mercy. Sometimes the surface graces us. I saw Gravity tonight alone & I wished you were with me but also alone, like how if there were one thing left in the world I’d give it to you. But that’s hyperbole. I love hyperbole. Walking home on 13th I heard a woman in an alley choking & I asked if she was OK & she said she was & I realized she was sobbing, not choking. But not only that, she was holding her phone up to her ear while sobbing & no one was on the other end. I wondered how people get that way, so look-no-hands, so what-do-I-know. But I’m only picking things up off the floor. The first time you told me you loved me I got nervous. Now when I think about you everything I think is love. It’s like a weapon sometimes, this life they give us & expect us to make use of. And then at other times it’s totally indistinguishable from any other thing. I know how a person gets that way. It’s the stone the tongue is made of. It’s snowing here in Denver, the city where we are both alive. 

Posted 10/29/13
This is for Oren Silverman.
Comments (0)
Would you like to leave a comment on this profile? Join Ink Node for a free account, or sign in if you are already a member.