C'est la belle vie
the words escape quietly from my lips
they float silently to the floor and settle there
the words are so quiet, so small
I can't be sure they ever really left my mouth
But there they are, sitting comfortably on the floor
They look up at me from below, questioning them self
I think about repeating them, maybe to reaffirm their meaning
but the sounds don't quite make it past my tongue
So I sit there in silence
with some fallen words
laying on the floor.