Of Portraits and Love

  I placed my head to his chest
and the sound saddened me.
I heard no drums
no galloping of wild horses
or the pounding of love to release him;
instead I heard an empty space
and
until today
I never recognized the noise of silence-
the brokenness of forced contentment
the emptiness of a jar once filled with "her".
So now I work to replace the empty spaces
with portraits of us
portraits of windows to the world
portraits of windows to my soul.

*originally written under my pen name: Tziporah Issac.  Visit the instagram page: tziporahwrites