Reshma Ramesh (20th April / Bangalore, India)

The dialogues that love broke the silence with
Like the roses that grew on mountains
With the salt from the winter sky
The unabashed soliloquy, even in monologues
They grew noisy like bees,
The string of words tied to my tongue
They mutter an odd dialect of love,
The grammar of silence was hideous
How could you bear something like that?
the language of silence I understood not
It wrote in whispers and spoke in empty pages
Lulled to sleep by the barrage of lyrics
Even the poems looked liked slangs
Just then, at that very second
I remembered silence is just a figure of speech,
And dear when of love we speak
With tongues savoring every move
The eyes measuring, the ears leaning
The eternal night singing
The language of love is after all
The silence
That meanders within…………….