hold
ok, but not really       let's start but already at the end       still, held in       suspension, stick out       your tongue, as far       as you can, for as       long as you can.       this lasts forever, but that's never       long enough. hold       still, the trembling       gives you away,       like a gift, evading       escaping from you,       for your mouth is       shut and your tongue       is out, out where       words float with air,       freefalling, leaking,        still not there. words       no longer yours, were       they ever holding       out, holding up, holding back, amidst       all this falling,       falling down. at       rest. arrested.

still
minute, just a       minute frozen face.       stilled, stifled, fled.       words linking themselves       in flight, held       in suspension, fly       in the ointment, moment       erected into monument,       oscillate minuscule.       then, after, much       later, moments       mobilized into movements. micro       minute ones, but       ones nonetheless.       narrow mouth amplified       melting, griping, biting,       licking moving still,       stillness now and       always momentary, already       escaped, always       spilling in movement       away from and towards       being held.

A series of static sound images. Series, as in separated continuity. Static, as in a state of impossibility. Sound, as in lack thereof. Images, as in what remains instilled. Hold still to holding on. Hold on to holding still. Nevertheless. Never the less. Sounds, despite lack. Static, oscillated arrest. Image, swallows in mouths. Series, a plural singular. The radio waves are stilled, standing waves. But still not very quiet.

From the impossibility of stillness to the tension of possession, from endurance to arrest, from the slightest twitch to the trembling tongue.