Sometimes, it’s everything.
Sometimes, very little,
Like a wink, or a sigh, or a smack.
Often it seems as if
It creeps across the ceiling,
Like a thought that should turn into a snack.
Sometimes, it comes with Noise.
Often, though, it’s silent,
Black and white, strung with pearls, words unsaid.
Sometimes, a glimpse of life,
There you are, but only in my head.
© Petrina Binney (2018)