It remains to be
unsaid.
Plumes
of pure language,
deftly weaving
through inner glow.
So
we are at risk.
Polyvocal,
polyethical.
Brisk autumn air,
a monolith,
disseminating,
gaining ground.
The myth
seizes
these unruly throats.
A mood
of casual distrust
proliferates.
-r. miller
Unsaid
Published
*Insert Propaganda Here* 
Brings to mind a line from a Siouxsie and the Banshees song, “Swimming Horses.” The line goes, “Forgets in slow motion.” It’s a discreet method of exchanging notes- texting, that is. If we could have sent each other texts when I was a teen in school, we would have done it nonstop all day, and all night. All the acronyms and code words. The whole scenario writes itself. LOL