there was a word

 ... you didn't say. Pen in hand, I took note.

What you may not know is that unsaid words and seething silences are my element. My tempestuous soul thrives on boiling waters, rough seas. However dark.

Yet, feigned indifference frets, wears it away like an acid tide.
Please have mercy on it.


(But I shall ride out this storm, don't worry. I will.)

*       *       *

There was
a word
in the dark.
Minuscule. Ignored.

It hammered in the dark.
It hammered
on the ground of water.

From the depths of time,
it hammered.
Against the wall.

A word.
In the dark.
Beckoning me.


Eugénio de Andrade, 'Havia uma Palavra', from Matéria Solar [Solar Matter].
Translated from the Portuguese by DK.