A small warning: These words flow in a slow, hypnotic tide. If you’re the kind of mind that drifts with the waves, choose your footing before you wade in.
when we already know the trick?
why do we search,
again,
for that sweet surrender?
have we ever asked
why we want it,
why we crave it with such quiet fervor,
each time
the voice begins to weave its web?
a voice that seeps into bone.
honey-sweet, pointing the way.
the body softens.
a shoulder drops.
the eyelids grow heavy—now, or maybe later.
silk wrapping around the senses.
the eternal silence between words.
the music of that silence,
cradling each gentle command.
(a second of doubt.
should i obey?
or ignore the piper?)
breath begins to sync
with the hypnotist’s heartbeat.
the guiding pulse.
deeper.
and deeper.
the pause that contains everything.
maybe because it’s easy.
maybe because we like the feeling of falling.
maybe because we love being caught
in a sonic web
of silences and promises.
or maybe
because in that suspended breath,
in that velvet obedience,
we are—for a moment—finally,
exquisitely,
still.