Give a cup of your silence

Spare me some love, Fidelis—the way a beggar spares a coinfrom the hand of a saint,or rain spares one roofwhile drowning the village.Give me what you have leftafter you have fed the wolves,after your heart has paid its taxesto every strangerwho called it home.I do not ask for the moon.It has disappointed me enough—always hanging above the ruinslike a witness too beautifulto testify.Give me a cup of your silence.I have learned to drink from empty things.I have kissed the rim of absenceuntil my lips forgotwhat warmth was supposed to mean.Spare me some love, Fidelis—not all of it.Only what remainswhen the house is quiet,and the last door closes.