Silence. Sometimes I fumble behind it
  and pick up stones from its depths
Silence. Sometimes I’m inside it, one of
  its occurrences— and continue to pick up stones

I know what time means
  I know that darkness is only a pair
of lips that can’t find its language in noise
  like love, like snow...

Is silence the dark shadow
  under which I try to speak?
Or, am I finally able to pick up a stone
  and throw it far beyond?