Does silence exist, in a pure sense?

It is the beginning and the end,
just before we start to play and soon after we end.
Or part of the beginning, and part of the end.

It is what makes silence non-existent,
It is what’s on the border of silence that draws my attention.

Not Cage, not 4’33’’.
Not about the music of the space itself, the audience and the room. 

It is about sounds we make.
The sounds we make that are on the border of becoming silent.
Hiding in silence.
Camouflaged by silence.