{telecommunicating} paul adrian mabelis

{telecommunicating}
  paul adrian mabelis

The weaponized
          well-intended
          decadence of light
and
the laudanum sky
          we fall prey to.

The bright demeanor of change
when first mentioned.

The brave coagulation of heart
          at the edge of sadness.

          The dead have risen
in their notes.

Their throats the priority of heaven
          gone           now to silence.

The violence
          of the mature world,
never a           pause
never a cessation –

          Ravaging forward
in its own
          formidable moan
                  and gesture.

*

If they do not sing-
they do not sing.

          The numb status of the keys
          on a grand piano
          pointing forward

in inaudibility
          and the angst
of expression
          before one allows themselves
thus composed
          to breathe.

Break this silent inactivity
          of self.
          The white noise
of the wind outside
          is no friend to time
spent missing you.
Sing to me -
          wherever you may be
          I will listen.