The Truth About Tigers

Name a thing, and it unravels the moment you speak.
Meaning flickers, hushed at the edge of every breath.
At dawn, a crow-black thread stretches across pale sky,
some echo of a verse, wingstroke-torn, drifting beyond
reach. Once, the horizon was only rumor, slipping across
half-remembered roads; now it gathers our scattered thoughts
like coins in a jar. We’ve always sensed the caves within,
the rolling brine of secret devotions, each one shifting
in time, like a dusk-glow dissolving just beyond the borders
of dream. I assume there is music hidden in the silence,
a quiet chord waiting to unfurl when the last word fades.

This poem was first published in Eunoia Review on April 8th, 2025. I am grateful to the editors for featuring my work.