Virginia Tech, Blacksburg, Virginia, 2007.
       

Solitude is the deepest silence,
the words are bullets in the direction of oneself,
I would not satisfy your curiosity
with words,
because I'm wounded by conversations
that happen around me,
I would not sate
indifference with words,
nothing would do
to explain the inexplicable silence.

it's not a matter of satisfying,
It's a matter of bringing silence to all mouths
that are noise in my path,
a whispering,
the deadly public.
If I find you
maybe I'll say hello,
174 bullets
obeying the manufacturer's instructions,
a semiautomatic weapon,
they should show respect facing the barrels
because they are going to free us from all suffering,
if they were grateful
they would stop dragging themselves
there are 174 shots,
the last one in the temple,
the sweaty temple
that leads to the end of all the whispers.

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Copyright © 2020 Fernando Valverde, Carolyn Forché All rights reserved
from The Louisville Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission