Words,
They want nothing in return.
They weave uncensored stories –
As if, through meaning,
An incarnation could be granted
In the body of the one
Who speaks to them.
They do not regret,
Do not plead,
Do not weep for being betrayed
A shadow casts its light.
Hidden between raindrops,
Between syllables –
They remain,
Entering deep beneath the skin
When other promises fail.
I won’t finish the sentence.
I won’t speak.
I wait.
And when I hear them –
I will take one step further,
Before the muscles fade,
And the body becomes transparent.
Twisted fingers, protruding veins –
Shaped by every word
That once burned
And then it was discerned.
They open my eyes,
Whispers in unknown tongues,
I only search for crumbs of meaning,
To roll it into a ball
like warm bread,
To eat it in silence –
To nourish
The unspoken.
If I don’t understand
What you’re saying to me –
It’s a sign I’ve lost myself
Behind the lines.
I open wide my arms
Between your life
And mine,
Shaping our imperfect
Logos.
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 7:14 PM UTC
Words,
They want nothing in return.
They weave uncensored stories –
As if, through meaning,
An incarnation could be granted
In the body of the one
Who speaks to them.
They do not regret,
Do not plead,
Do not weep for being betrayed
A shadow casts its light.
Hidden between raindrops,
Between syllables –
They remain,
Entering deep beneath the skin
When other promises fail.
I won’t finish the sentence.
I won’t speak.
I wait.
And when I hear them –
I will take one step further,
Before the muscles fade,
And the body becomes transparent.
Twisted fingers, protruding veins –
Shaped by every word
That once burned
And then it was discerned.
They open my eyes,
Whispers in unknown tongues,
I only search for crumbs of meaning,
To roll it into a ball
like warm bread,
To eat it in silence –
To nourish
The unspoken.
If I don’t understand
What you’re saying to me –
It’s a sign I’ve lost myself
Behind the lines.
I open wide my arms
Between your life
And mine,
Shaping our imperfect
Logos.
Request permission to use this poem