We sit in silence
and every once in a while your face changes expression with the train of thought that you have become lost in like a silent pantomime,
or Film Noir at it's finest.

We communicate best in these spaces,
you hear my voice the loudest when I say nothing at all,
when we let the table between us speak and creak bitter apologies for words that tumbled out of our mouths before we had a chance to stop them.

Coexisting passionately,
both alone and together.
Behind smoke walls and bone marrow,
bound by silent spiderweb silk tethers.