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...And the night was cold and clear, when silence stopped all the world. I was left, speechless, whispering to someone who I’ve never seen. And those stars, oh, those stars that painted ever shadow and deep cold blackness with brilliance, each of them caught my heart and pulled it closer to your arms. I couldn’t speak, when they sang to me. I heard the silence and was overwhelmed with your breath, as it rippled through leafless branches and tugged and my hair.
You spoke to me then, in silence, without a word to say. Or perhaps I misheard, mistaking the beating of my heart for your gentle whispers, or the crunch of feet on the icy snow for your voice. But whatever the reason, I heard you that night, in the silent and in the shimmering skies.
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...And the night was cold and clear, when silence stopped all the world. I was left, speechless, whispering to someone who I’ve never seen. And those stars, oh, those stars that painted ever shadow and deep cold blackness with brilliance, each of them caught my heart and pulled it closer to your arms. I couldn’t speak, when they sang to me. I heard the silence and was overwhelmed with your breath, as it rippled through leafless branches and tugged and my hair.
You spoke to me then, in silence, without a word to say. Or perhaps I misheard, mistaking the beating of my heart for your gentle whispers, or the crunch of feet on the icy snow for your voice. But whatever the reason, I heard you that night, in the silent and in the shimmering skies.
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- Last seen on Jul 19 5:33 PM. Member since March 26, 2006.
- I am a 19 year old man from Minnesota (United States)
- When I'm not writing, I'm graphic artist, student, photgrapher.
- Visit my homepage at www.theeverlastingfallout.com/read
- I have 1 comment, 533 poems, 17 stories, 1 philosophy
My Stories
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He could feel her breath on his cheek, hot and passionate. Her heartbeat against his, quickening. He held her close, breathless, unable to speak. / It was dark, and no one was there to stop them. / His
My Poetry
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My other items
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- Strong and Low at allpoetry
Winter thrums onward, making white the throne
where the children sit and sing the song - The Falsetto Echo at allpoetry
I heard you, higher than before
in the icicles that hung from the window - Altar at allpoetry
away the anchor,
and on in the storm
Guest Book
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LeBrooke on April 26, 2008You haven't been on in almost a year, your profile says. But I want you to know you're a great writer and I miss reading your new works.
Come home soon?
