Thrum

Silence hums
like the throb
of the fan which cools
the motherboard,

like the cicadas
which don't chorus
in this damp square
of England's North West.

I guess that what
I'm trying to avoid saying
is that the silence
is deafening

and I can't make out
what you're mouthing to me,
gasping across the wispy twilight.

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