My one brother talks a lot
But everything he says is important
Stuff about nothing in particular
News from the nodal point of anger
Which we both know is disguised fear
Which he doesn't know we share
But I can't stop the onward flow
Of his words roaring over rapids
Even when it comes to the slow pond
And the tall grasses of his despair
I listen even more deeply
To the silence as we float
Out over the depths of I love you
We both know is meant
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