There, inbetween words, are dark words:

non-words that whisper.

Sonar sounds

pulsating messages.

Still small voice of calm

to roars’ raging.

Listen now,

inside, between the corpusles,

behind your eyes,

the dark words speak.

Listen more closely this time.

If only you could be still enough,

if only you could be quiet enough:

switch off the drumming pump,

switch off the gasping air,

switch off the firing electrics.

With heart and lungs and mind stilled,

who do you hear?

In dead of night,

when no traffic ventures,

or step treads,

be alone and still and silent.

Ask yourself,

who do you hear?

And listening,

write those words,

between worlds,

the dark words.