I say their voices are silent
My mailbox is empty and the ringer is silent.
The money between us is a moldy green
Locked in a box, the keyhole is silent.
Beneath the bed is a photo
Dads moustache is curled but the smile is silent.
The boardwalk between us, coins in my hand
The ocean was grey, the seagulls silent.
My brother counted cars until the street was empty,
The neighbors departed, my mother silent.
In dreams that house is burning.
I wake up the opposite of silent.
My name is Aura. Call me Aura.
I am a banner of brown skin,
Cursing the walls, refusing to stay silent.