Stop talking please.

Okay, gush a little more if you must — then hush. Going on too long makes the speech so very wrong.

Don’t you know that there is a time, between one set of words and another, when what happens only happens during silence?

Haven’t you, in the whomp and whoosh of wave-washed life, put on diving gear and dropped down into a sea of enforced quiet, sunk down within the deep walls of one of your own psyche’s submarine canyons and seen beautiful, quiet, coraline thoughts growing there?

And then, haven’t you, in wise and decompressive mode, surfaced — nicely aphonic. Remember that, the deep water, deep sea, depthy quiet, the next time you decide to send out a boat load of your verbal ware. Pause, then, and sail, softly on the quiet side of care.

We’ve too much practiced talk and squawk. Prattle, prattle, rock and rattle; tattle, tattle — it’s a custody battle. Hoarse, hoarse, remorse, remorse; of course, of course it’s a screamin’ divorce!

Prolix, bollixed.

Wind bags and wanton tongues yell and deafen the whole world.

Wise rags muff and fluff and heal with salves of quietness.


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