Thirty-Three

Why Don't You
speak a little more
about what you see when
the sun pours down a beam
and the dust particles are dancing?

why don't you
tell us the amazing things you
rattle off inside your head-
the pinks and the clinks and the
ribbons that tie up your talents
in bundles, and words coating them like
giftwrapping

why, should anyone speak
of anything beautiful inside

why, is silence not a
see-through beauty in
herself?