Critical, creative and digital writingEcriture critique, créative et numérique

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16 03 2014  


Nothing! No sound Around, No voice But mine. I feel Aloof Alone And still No sound But mine. And then, I feel The air I breathe— A breath Of space, Spirit Of the world Around, Greets me With her voice, A whisper Of winters To come, Hissing In my lungs, Weaving In my chest, Burning In my brain Those thoughts Of snow Of ice Of pain, Until I agree To say Those words. But now, There's nothing! No sound Around But my Voice And the echo Of a whisper Of winters To come.