That silence is the breeze of the morning,
that at the beginning it’s fresh … but then cools the soul.

That muteness is the imposed gag,
that although consensual … unmasks the boudoir.

That imprudent stealth is the South wind,
that still warm like aura … pierced the heart with its farce.

Breeze, gag, imprudence … nonsense of a rough sea without calm.
Silence, muteness, stealth … deep intellect of an ocean with a soul.