In rooms you are not in
silence
scrapes the floor.
In the corners, snow.
Wanting to surrender,
I walked in winter
watched snowflakes fall
my
frozen, fragmented white flags
stitching themselves together –
vast white sheets of surrender
like the sheets where once
I could surrender to you.
I could surrender to you.
Instead, I carved blocks, built
walls, a fortress
to try to surrender from.
I try to surrender
to silence
in rooms you are not in.
2021 Edit