They bubble beneath my tongue,
cementing it in place,
My teeth a cage,
my lips a shuttered gate.

They collect there,
a tumultuous whirlpool,
that muffles all sound,
arresting my ability to speak.

These words, cannot be spoken.

Once in the air -
They become heavy,
and purposeful.
They are without control,
saying things I may not know.
Giving things away -
My secrets, my pains, my sorrows
My joys, my strange peculiarities...

But You...

Your tongue -
an unfurling key,
seeks to be pressed against my own,
drawing these words out.
A nectar of thoughts,
subtle and unspoken,
bursting upon contact.

Can you hear what I am thinking?
Are my words so loud,
that I need not speak at all?

I cannot fathom,
that anyone should hear,
my silent, interminable words.
When they have been locked
so recklessly away for so long.

But You...