Silence I - Marianna Pliakou

And there,
beneath the trees,
beneath the broken summer
and the eloquence of absence,
lies the day.
The day that did not grow into a night,
and, wrinkled, stared us in the eyes,
until it fell on the floor,
quietly.
 
No blood, no dust,
no words.
Ssshhhhh.

Marianna Pliakou