I feel past
his colourless eyes
and his chapped lips.
The faded glimmer of happy memories,
too obstructed by the scars of his story,
permanent.

It's a love with the power of a storm,
strong even in the absence of rain.
I read past his unspoken words and uncollected thoughts,
and see the incisive emotions he expresses through a fragile breath,
as his current expression is just an instance of the whole he completes.