silence

langging,

though we are branded as literary bitches,

we never let go of those rusty swing chains

and when words are unbreathable,

we’re never scared to tatter our lips.

and our silence?

our silence echo between us.

perhaps, we love alike, sin alike.

and we can willingly die

the next day for the heart.

—
for Rage and Rain
by Tintin.

~ by ragerain on July 26, 2008.