What is it that you want to hear?

What is it that you want to hear?

A solemn little song
of handkerchiefs dotted
with weakness and deceit?

Hands now blanketed
in your oceanic sheets.

Deeply and longingly
will it sound.

A hum.
A moan.
Oh, the restless syllables
rippling in crying tongues.

It is a gurgled speech
melodious
in its own end.

Melodious in its own goodbye.

I will wipe my eyes now.
And then you will listen.