My own footsteps tap-top bongos in my skull
on the sidewalk my silicone soles roll
in the snow, my shoes seem to slosh through shallow shoals–
these feet mime an earthquake of music
and the symphony stretches, shivering, across my whole surface,
my beating blood;
I scream with sound to the whole world.
Don’t make a peep,
or the whole audience will stare,
don’t say a word
or the microphone will screech.
Yes, I literally hear my footsteps
(inside, outside, barefoot, shod)
and I think about them often.
I had a mind-blown moment
finding out not everybody does that–
is it just me, then,
that wilts at the idea of screaming?
That thinks anyone in a mile-radius can hear a shouted whisper?
Haha, it’s mind-blowing, no one around will judge you
because they can’t actually hear you.
Check out this short story about an unreliable fish
If you’ve enjoyed this post, consider buying me a pizza