Quiet
There is no rushing drumbeat of a racing pulse, no corresponding flush as circulation concentrates and conspires to give away runaway thoughts, no chills to shiver the spine nor the tickle of perspiration in areas you never knew had pores.
You breathe deep, regular, eyes shining briefly with something inexplicable. Quiet, then, an exhale to match the equally unremarkable inhalation, every breath even with the steady beat of an unwavering heart. There are no surprises, only something akin to sorrow as you wall away everything resembling emotion, leaving a flat calm behind, undeterred.
There is nothing to yearn for, naught to dream, perchance to hope. Just a cleansing silence, and an abiding peace.
You breathe deep, regular, eyes shining briefly with something inexplicable. Quiet, then, an exhale to match the equally unremarkable inhalation, every breath even with the steady beat of an unwavering heart. There are no surprises, only something akin to sorrow as you wall away everything resembling emotion, leaving a flat calm behind, undeterred.
There is nothing to yearn for, naught to dream, perchance to hope. Just a cleansing silence, and an abiding peace.