DISSECT THIS SILENCE

DISSECT this Silence: is it sweet and firm And long, the brain’s mysterious white Worm? Anatomize this symmetry that winds Voluptuously till itself it finds, Pale body flowing from a lean cold head, Flowing like water to the profound dead. Since Silence feeds on silence, can there be, Can there become, less Silence? Chastity And solitude and wintry sleep invite The pale and beautiful Hermaphrodite. Dissect this Silence: though it seem pure form, Yet will you find much blood within this Worm. And though it seem compounded of still air Beyond the memory of sound, beware The loud, the unbelievable hurt cries Of the subtle creature you would analyze. Dissect then if you will, O curious child, But leave the Heart of Silence undefiled.