The love implanted in the silence

Lips meant something—

her father’s trembled when the doctor’s hope had left her world unchanged.

Hands, too—

her mother’s crashed together when her feet first found their steps.

And tears meant more than hurt or hunger—

her parents’ fell when she signed her love with folded fingers and pulsing palm.

Now, as a greater hope burrows behind her ear, a strangeness soaks her mind. 

The world is more than her eyes can see, more than silence could contain, and she discovers what the surface has always held below, beneath the moving mouths and rejoicing hands:

that love is often loud.