Your silence utters more words,
More than is sometimes required
And speaks louder than actual words can muster.
I needn’t hear your sweet sarcastic voice though-
Behind your eyes,
Deep within your shy gaze
Are yet more words unspoken.
In the beats of your tender heart
Lodged beneath the warm tensile cage,
I hear the familiar sound of anxiety…
Therewith I fill my rounded nostrils
Reminds me of your ethereal presence.
When I do exhaust the smell lodged deep within my lungs,
A special kind of nostalgia sets in-
One which makes me keep fervent count of the cycle of days.
On the buds of your tongue
And the tender flesh of your lips,
Therein lies the taste of your love
And the salty taste of your reluctance.
I see the prejudice and uncertainty.
The willingness to accept the supposed inevitable-
That I’m just in for the short haul.