We talk with
The flitting understanding
Of space
Between two feeding birds.
Eyes look away
And return eagerly
Waiting to transmit
More of the feeling.
The feeling
Between us both
That both implodes walls
And builds them.
The feeling
That blushes in our words
And makes our silences
So loud.
The feeling fluctuates
Softly around our eyes
And strokes us both
With intangible caressing.
Stare at me.
Speak with me.
Be silent with me
For no matter what is said
Or unsaid
I am getting
An earful.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
We talk with
The flitting understanding
Of space
Between two feeding birds.
Eyes look away
And return eagerly
Waiting to transmit
More of the feeling.
The feeling
Between us both
That both implodes walls
And builds them.
The feeling
That blushes in our words
And makes our silences
So loud.
The feeling fluctuates
Softly around our eyes
And strokes us both
With intangible caressing.
Stare at me.
Speak with me.
Be silent with me
For no matter what is said
Or unsaid
I am getting
An earful.
