A storm of things unspoken

But under the silence of what we say to each other,
is the much more articulate silence of what we don’t say to each other,
a storm of things unspoken,
coiled, reserved, appointed,
ticking away like a clock attached to a time-bomb:
crash, fire, demolition
wound up in the quietly,
almost tenderly,
small, familiar things unspoken.

Tennessee Williams, closing lines to section III of “A Separate Poem,”
The Collected Poems of Tennessee Williams,
Edited by David Roessel and Nicholas Moschiovakis - page 81
(New Directions, 2002)