I have this dream
of an island full of animals:
there is no sound,
there are no people
—except me.
I sit at the island's center
and all of the animals—
the avians and the marsupials,
the insects and the herbivores,
and even the moles and bats
—all stare at me.
And this goes on and on
and after enough time has passed
and they eventually go back to their
cricketing and chirping, and
squeaking and squawking,
until I open my mouth again
and let out a sound.
And then they stare—
a bottomless, gutless stare;
a depreciating, foreign stare.
And, like before,
they eventually go back to their
bleating and barking, and
clucking and purring
until I open my mouth
and nothing comes out
—and I get it.
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