Katarina Dvornik

People are afraid of quiet.
The silence when nobody
Knows quite what to say
That sends shivers up your spine.
But silence-
Real silence,
When you’re not filling up the darkness
With blathering words,
When you let the nothingness consume you—
Holds a certain warmth inside you,
A dark, calm, warmth,
A dull fire.
Silence is a subtle balance,
That creeps up
Like an intricate feathery vine
So that you don’t even notice
Until everything has changed.
Like a veil behind you,
Touching you with a gentle softness
And pushing with unseen fingers
The thin skin
Of toughness and puffed up chests,
The real darkness
Of hatred and crushing fingers
That shrivel a soft silence.
Katarina Dvornik