No words -none.

They were stolen from my breath

Before my tongue formed them

My hands traced them

My body taught them.

They were small. So small.

And how could they withstand

The weight of silence

Its barreling force crushing in its path

Stolen moments from borrowed days

I could not give them back if I tried.

They were not mine to give or take

But they felt so right in my hands

Shivering with greed.

There were no words.

Broken fragments gathered from

The shattered bottle speak

But this

This is victory of a different kind.