Silences

He asked a question
I promptly replied.
Was it the answer I had?
Or the one I could afford?

I told a story
The characters so real.
Was it mere fiction?
Or self-introspection?

I wrote a letter
So candid and frank.
Was it all there was?
Or also that which the heart still has?

The gaps in a conversation;
The engineered reactions;
The camouflaging fiction;
And the shrouded emotions.

Is it just bout the spoken?
Or are the silences conversing too?
Don't the unvoiced cajole for space?
Or does the spoken barricades even their trace?

What are those hushes in the stillness then?
And what of those murmurs in the quietness?
What of that clairvoyance; that intuition?
And what of those psychic, telepathic connections?

What? If not, silences.