whisper
my ears have an on/off switch,
i am not deaf, no implants.
a choice, subconscious or not,
a choice.
like a toothpick in a bowl of set jello,
visible and available,
stuck and surrounded
by nothing that matters, nothing that prepares.
the clouds share their
traveling stories as they pass through
one another.
so my body longs to whisper.
it isn’t until I look up,
look up!
that I can hear
their lore.
a cloud’s dreams, and so:
my destiny.