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Your tears are a sign of weakness.
The cruelest today are full of tears.
Sentimentality drips from the towers.
There hasn’t been this much cruelty in years.
This swaggerer who talks a lot, shuts up around me.
We both want you—both know the other can see.
The whole world is unspoken.
When anything is articulated,
It is immediately contradicted,
And dies. All speech is a token—
Actions, too. Everything hides inside the unspoken.
I know what you are—but couldn’t say,
And you knew I knew. So you went away.
I could plead and protest in this verse,
I could buy you Cleopatra’s barge
With buzzing slaves. The sun burned
Her canopy; Antony, war, and the curse
Of the unspoken was, again, too large.
Since that day, the day has turned.
