Through yonder window breaks a mixture of moonbeams and streetlight…
The chill in the evening air freezes my thoughts and I am uncertain of what to say…
Yet no obstacles exist t hat would hinder me from reaching across the sofa with my gaze to touch you before my hands reach out and do the same…
Still I sit looking at you locked in perpetual exchange of unspoken emotion… and haven’t the faintest clue what you are not saying, but it means the world to me all the same…
Roaring silence of not saying the right thing… broken by opening the of hearts and speaking the words they conduct…
For they always seem to know exactly what they want, need… desire and are unafraid to say so…
Speak low…