Not so late that I feel guilty.

Because it is late, perhaps, or I am tired of waiting.

I am reading a lot into silence
and it is late at night; later than it should be
considering how the days are adding up

or falling away. I am not good enough.
It is definitely something I have done, or haven’t done;
silence makes me look for it

and I resent, all of a sudden, the onset
of technology that records your own tracks
as well as theirs. I am reading a lot into silence

and considering breaking it with nothing
to say. It is not a game. I am tired
and will sleep. It is late, and this probably explains it all.