lolita

I pray for peace. The kind of peace that stops the world, Dead in her tracks. The kind of peace that instils silence, The loud kind. Where the only noise is The shuffling of feet as people move to embrace. The scraping of clothes on clothes, Skin on skin. The ruffling of hair as Fingers glide through it – in it. Where the only noise is The stretching of mouths as they smile. The sliding of tears as They slip from eyes and glide down cheeks. The wetness of a kiss On a cheek – on a forehead – on a mouth. Where the only noise is The slapping of handshakes as People move towards equality. The ring of laughter as People move past discrimination. The pounding of heartbeats as People move past racism. I pray for peace. The kind that stops the world, Dead in its tracks. The kind that instils silence, The loud kind. Loud enough to make people listen.