Unusual

If I was reciting this
in your ear

would you know
it was me—

not by my voice

but by the silence
between the words?

Close your eyes.

Forget my name.

Forget my face.

If all you had
was breath

would you know
where I break

the places
I hesitate—

the ones
I never learned
to hide?

You have read me
in the dark

in rooms
I have never entered

on mornings
when the coffee
went cold

or nights
when something stronger
sat untouched

because some sentence
held you there
longer than you meant
to stay.

You have carried
pieces of me

through hours
I never witnessed.

So tell me—

if I leaned close enough
that these words
were no longer read

but heard…

would you know
it was me?

Or have I only been

a voice

until now?