Your voice sounds like the mosquitoes flap
their wings
in a silent night,
like a steam flowing in a peaceful valley,
like a hunter waiting for the prey,
like a calm lake, like someone is holding
his breath
in the endless dark,
a broken radio,
a lurking snake
a rusty machine.
Like the wind blowing the twigs,
like a couple whispering to one another,
like students doing the exams, the only
sound you hear
is the friction between the paper and the
pencil,
an old-fashioned fan
working constantly without any rest,
like the gas leaking out of a bicycle,
like vehicles which moving slowly
across the busy street, like a gun shooting
without any noise, like friends sharing the
secrets
which don’t want others hear,
the strange sound when you get lost in a
forest,
a raft flowing on the river,
the sound of the rain water hitting the
round,
like a painful patient groaning but with no
strength,
like a football flying in the air,
like a devout believer
who pray in a low voice
wanted God to bless him,
like a city after a nuclear explosion,
like mother’s comfort when children got
hurt,
like the sound I heard when my cousin
reading his text book.
