Santa Fe Trail 28 Mar 2010 by Brokentaco, on Flickr I never was the queen of chat.Monthly minutes used on my phone tend toward single digits. I never minded your silence.I think you’re quiet because you’re listening.Listening intently,with more than your ears. I’ve seen you on a summer night,shirtless,rocking in time to crickets and katydids,each beat of breath in rhythm, as if  your cells breathe sound rather than air. I’ve seen you transfixed by the swoosh of waves,arms spread wide like a bird poised for take-off,as if you can catch the vibrations in hollow-flute bones,let the boom of surf against rock lift you like song into the clouds I’ve seen…