the dare
summer spread a quilt of light
over the entire town, and instead of snow,
we had feather-light answers swaying down
filling up our frozen flats
ridding them of question marks
outside, you recognized the streets
shuffled along the cobble stones
back to your flat, where you let her in
and heard yourself say:
“sure,
sure you can leave
your things with me”
and it suddenly hit you how tired you’d been
how heavy loneliness can feel
when we close our windows
in fear of the draft
the snow
the traffic noise
or whatever we fear might come in
whatever make those doors swing shut
and humans lock their silences up
is it really that hard to do, to make
a little noise, a little movement
in the rooms which we think ourselves
too weary to share?
‘cause in the end,
what scares you the most?
the silence – or the dare?
